This is my common app essay. I made it topic of my choice, about things I've learned from my job. My assessment is that the first half is a lot better than the second, probably due to the fact that I wrote them on different days. Anyway, let me know what you think and offer any changes you have.
All my life, I have enjoyed going out to eat. Actually, when I was younger it was the only thing that pleasured me more than playing on my Gameboy. It was almost magical, the way I could simply yell "Chicken fingers!" at a waiter and, 10 minutes of doing mazes and word searches on the menu later, have my food right in front of me. Where is the food made? Who makes it? How is it made? Questions like this never crossed my mind. The only thing that mattered was the fact that my chicken fingers came with fries too!
As I got older, things changed a little. The process of how my food went from a request to being on the table in front of me was far less mysterious, as I now understood how a kitchen worked. Eating at a restaurant just wasn't as great anymore.
When I turned sixteen, my father decided that it was time for me to get a job. As reluctant as I was, I filled out an application and was soon employed as a server's assistant at The Publick House, a restaurant in town. During my training, the manager basically told me "Your job is to do everything in the restaurant except seat tables, take orders, cook, and bring food and drinks to the tables." As far as I knew, this sounded great! What else was there for me to do other than take empty plates? It seemed like the easiest job ever!
My first day on the job taught me that I was utterly mistaken. The different tasks I have to do are endless. Every table that is seated needs a bread basket and every table that gets up must be promptly cleared and re-set. The bar has run out of a certain drink? It's my job to restock it. A child spills his chocolate milk all over the floor? I have to rush to the back to grab the mop. The list goes on, and on. At the end of the night as I nearly passed out on my bed still smelling like a grill, I remember thinking "Wow! There's so much more work to be done at a restaurant than I've ever thought about!" It was then what I realized that the true purpose of my job was to do the little, behind the scenes things that allow restaurants to function seamlessly, and deliver the flawless service that I barely noticed as a child.
I now understood that there was much more to eating at a restaurant than ordering food and then receiving it. There is always somebody working hard, giving 100% of their effort to make it seem that way. It is because of this that I have become more appreciative of the people that do the "dirty work". Today when I go out to eat, I am sure to put my unwanted plates off to the side, avoid making a mess, and anything else to make the lives of employees like myself easier.
All my life, I have enjoyed going out to eat. Actually, when I was younger it was the only thing that pleasured me more than playing on my Gameboy. It was almost magical, the way I could simply yell "Chicken fingers!" at a waiter and, 10 minutes of doing mazes and word searches on the menu later, have my food right in front of me. Where is the food made? Who makes it? How is it made? Questions like this never crossed my mind. The only thing that mattered was the fact that my chicken fingers came with fries too!
As I got older, things changed a little. The process of how my food went from a request to being on the table in front of me was far less mysterious, as I now understood how a kitchen worked. Eating at a restaurant just wasn't as great anymore.
When I turned sixteen, my father decided that it was time for me to get a job. As reluctant as I was, I filled out an application and was soon employed as a server's assistant at The Publick House, a restaurant in town. During my training, the manager basically told me "Your job is to do everything in the restaurant except seat tables, take orders, cook, and bring food and drinks to the tables." As far as I knew, this sounded great! What else was there for me to do other than take empty plates? It seemed like the easiest job ever!
My first day on the job taught me that I was utterly mistaken. The different tasks I have to do are endless. Every table that is seated needs a bread basket and every table that gets up must be promptly cleared and re-set. The bar has run out of a certain drink? It's my job to restock it. A child spills his chocolate milk all over the floor? I have to rush to the back to grab the mop. The list goes on, and on. At the end of the night as I nearly passed out on my bed still smelling like a grill, I remember thinking "Wow! There's so much more work to be done at a restaurant than I've ever thought about!" It was then what I realized that the true purpose of my job was to do the little, behind the scenes things that allow restaurants to function seamlessly, and deliver the flawless service that I barely noticed as a child.
I now understood that there was much more to eating at a restaurant than ordering food and then receiving it. There is always somebody working hard, giving 100% of their effort to make it seem that way. It is because of this that I have become more appreciative of the people that do the "dirty work". Today when I go out to eat, I am sure to put my unwanted plates off to the side, avoid making a mess, and anything else to make the lives of employees like myself easier.