Have a Wonton or two

Delivering your Chinese food in a fast, convenience manner. Tips, as always, will be greatly appreciated.

Monday, August 28, 2006

The One Where I Quit

It's been almost a week since my last post, huh. Turned out, I didn't find reminiscing about the past fun anymore. But before I turn into blogging about something else entirely (I have a few nice ideas and useful too!), I would like to share my quitting story, you know, for old time sake(old time being that last post).

Before I decided to quit, I consulted a friend of mine. She's a veteran, well to be more exact, she's the senior wait staff at BL's restaurant. I owe my friend a bunch for getting so nicely acquinted with BL, which lead to my employment, albeit a shortlived one, as a delivery guy there.

Rumor has it, or at least this is what a little bird told me, my friend and BL might as well end up elevating their relationship. Not romantically, you pervy [a halt on imagining things], it's more on the profesional side of one business partner to another business partner instead of a boss-employee one.

You see, I don't want to jeopardize the nice thing going on between my friend and BL. That's why I needed to consult this with her. When I pitched in the idea to quit, it was to my surprise that my friend was 100% behind my decision. An angel that she is.

That afternoon, I called BL up at the restaurant. She was out, but my friend gave me BL's cell phone number. She picked up with her usual panicky, suspicious tone. I don't know what turns her like that everytime she picks up the phone, any phone. It might involve some previous traumas from a communist camp she attended one summer as a child back in Mother China. How the heck I know. It's just weird.

"Hello, BL, this is W." (Due to her twist of tongue my name had been reduced into a single letter)

I then went straight to shooting my point.

"I am not coming back to work as a delivery guy for you."

I gave her no plausible reason. The turn over rate of delivery job at her restaurant is pretty high anyway. Plus, she didn't care for you as a person but more on how she can still cover her bases. She then asked me,

"What about today? Do you come today?"

"Nope," I said and I hung up.

With that, I regained my freedom back as a free agent. Two weeks have given me enough insight of the not-so-sweet-life of a delivery job. It's time to move on.



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