Is that a wad of ones in your pocket...or are you just happy to see me?
Just moments ago I found myself in the position of trading a $20 bill for twenty $1 bills. I needed a dollar so I could get a cinnamon roll out of the vending machine at work. Lucky for me, the vending machine guy was there and gave me all the singles I needed. He handed me the money and I started counting it.
It felt good. It felt really good. It made me think of the times in my life when the cash (and I'm talking actual cash) flowed freely. I made good tips as a bellman...and I had eight different bellman jobs. In Big Sky, it wasn't unusual to walk away with $150 to $200 bucks a day in cash tips. The best part of my day was when I got home, pulled out a giant wad of money from my pocket, and started counting it. That's what I was reminded of while counting this measly 20 bucks.
But it also made me think of working as a bellman. There were bad days. It wasn't easy to deal with rich, annoying, egotistical guests. But it was also fun. Really fun. It's hard to explain why. I don't want to quit my job and go be a bellman for the rest of my life. But in some ways, a bellman's existence is simplistically superior to anything else.
Go figure.
2 comments:
Maybe you should quit your job and become a concierge. I could see you doing that. And you make good tips too. How's the weather?
This reminds me of working Saturday doubles bartending...I'm work from 10am until about 3:30 or so...the work was long and exhausting and every saturday I'd say this is my last one...then I'd get home and count all my money and say, Ok- one more Saturday.
There is somethign about earnign tangible money- money that's in front of you- in your hands- that makes you proud of your hard work.
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