This is the first version my essay - "Topic of my choice." I decided to remark about an experience during my weekend job. Please provide either constructive criticism or praise. Any and all help is appreciated!
________________________
PJ Whelihans
Five men, all wearing jeans and identical black shirts, advanced with a deliberate, yet awkward gait towards me. As they approached, I stepped forward to greet them, but as I opened my mouth to speak, my manager, Jamie, cut me off. She politely asked the men if they would like a seat in the dining room. As they turned around to take their seats at their table, I saw that they each had "Last fling before the ring!" printed in bold white letters on the back of their shirt - a bachelor party.
The pub, in which I bus tables at, named PJ Whelihans, is known for a family-friendly dining room, a difficult reputation to maintain due its proximity to a bar. A bachelor party in the dining room could prove to be trouble for this reputation. Jamie decided to cut the bachelor party off from alcohol early, as they likely were drinking before they entered the restaurant.
Because they could not buy anymore alcohol, the men decided to leave. They all chugged their remaining beers, and walked out to the foyer. Barley 30 seconds later, Jamie walked out of the kitchen with a mop and rag with an absolutely horror-struck, sickened expression stamped to her face. I wondered what could have happened, so I followed her into the foyer. As I opened the door behind her, a revolting odor struck me with the force of a freight train - and then I saw the carnage. The entire front door to the restaurant and surrounding area was covered in throw up from the since departed bachelor party. Infuriated, Jamie instantly asked me go get more buckets of water, a jug of sanitary spray, and bag of towels.
Not only was there a gigantic mess, but the restaurant was exceptionally busy and we were under-staffed. I had only recently begun working as a busboy, but I was learning quickly. Everyone has to chip in equally in a restaurant. If a big task looms, such as the mess all over the door, someone needs to take charge. I needed to chip in, especially because Jamie needed to start managing the customers, and the waitresses could take care of my job as a busboy. Normally in the past I would just avoid the entire dilemma, but the past few weekends I had worked forced me take new adventurous steps. Busing tables instilled confidence within me, and I felt that I could to take on some extra responsibility. I decided to step up to the plate.
As I brought the supplies Jamie had requested, I told her that I would take care of the mess and she could go back to work. She was skeptical at first, and insisted that I just go back to cleaning tables, but she noticed that more customers were entering the parking lot. Jamie handed me the mop and said in humbling gracious and sincere tone, "Andrew, Thank You."
_____________________________________
________________________
PJ Whelihans
Five men, all wearing jeans and identical black shirts, advanced with a deliberate, yet awkward gait towards me. As they approached, I stepped forward to greet them, but as I opened my mouth to speak, my manager, Jamie, cut me off. She politely asked the men if they would like a seat in the dining room. As they turned around to take their seats at their table, I saw that they each had "Last fling before the ring!" printed in bold white letters on the back of their shirt - a bachelor party.
The pub, in which I bus tables at, named PJ Whelihans, is known for a family-friendly dining room, a difficult reputation to maintain due its proximity to a bar. A bachelor party in the dining room could prove to be trouble for this reputation. Jamie decided to cut the bachelor party off from alcohol early, as they likely were drinking before they entered the restaurant.
Because they could not buy anymore alcohol, the men decided to leave. They all chugged their remaining beers, and walked out to the foyer. Barley 30 seconds later, Jamie walked out of the kitchen with a mop and rag with an absolutely horror-struck, sickened expression stamped to her face. I wondered what could have happened, so I followed her into the foyer. As I opened the door behind her, a revolting odor struck me with the force of a freight train - and then I saw the carnage. The entire front door to the restaurant and surrounding area was covered in throw up from the since departed bachelor party. Infuriated, Jamie instantly asked me go get more buckets of water, a jug of sanitary spray, and bag of towels.
Not only was there a gigantic mess, but the restaurant was exceptionally busy and we were under-staffed. I had only recently begun working as a busboy, but I was learning quickly. Everyone has to chip in equally in a restaurant. If a big task looms, such as the mess all over the door, someone needs to take charge. I needed to chip in, especially because Jamie needed to start managing the customers, and the waitresses could take care of my job as a busboy. Normally in the past I would just avoid the entire dilemma, but the past few weekends I had worked forced me take new adventurous steps. Busing tables instilled confidence within me, and I felt that I could to take on some extra responsibility. I decided to step up to the plate.
As I brought the supplies Jamie had requested, I told her that I would take care of the mess and she could go back to work. She was skeptical at first, and insisted that I just go back to cleaning tables, but she noticed that more customers were entering the parking lot. Jamie handed me the mop and said in humbling gracious and sincere tone, "Andrew, Thank You."
_____________________________________