The 1990 song Enlightenment by Van Morrison opens with the lyrics “Chop that wood, carry water,” which is a reference to a verse in an eighth century Chinese poem by Layman P’ang:
No matter who tries to leave their mark,
The hills and dales are not impressed.
Collecting firewood and carrying water
Are prayers that reach the gods.
This is a kind of how it feels working at the hamburger restaurant, except that my regular tasks deal with burgers and french fries. I take orders, use the POS system, and collect fries from the freezer… over and over and over again.
I wake up at five in the morning, I put on my uniform, and I become an invisible cog in the mighty machine.
And while this is the literal embodiment of the term “McJob” there is something satisfying about the work. I like the speed of it and am continually impressed with the operational efficiency (in spite of noticing a thousand ways it could work just a little bit better). My contribution leaves no mark and I’m totally replaceable.
The individual “I” that is Mike is not useful, important, or even considered. Mike doesn’t exist at the hamburger restaurant. But when I take up my position at the drive thru, I become an invaluable member of the team. I am the finger that pushes the buttons, the voice taking orders, and the body carrying boxes of fries. I occupy the space required and perform the role of a crucial part of the operation, even as very little of “Mike” seeps out.
But last week I left my mark.
The drive thru station is right beside one of the hand washing sinks. It’s in almost constant use as people come on shift or change tasks. The sink has an automated towel dispenser, automated soap dispenser, and for some reason manual water knobs. One of the problems with how everything is laid out is that there wasn’t room to mount the soap dispenser above the sink, so it’s off to the side a little. Being an automated dispenser means that the soap is not always caught, and being off to the side means the soap lands on the floor.
For months this drove me crazy, and first in my mind’s eye, and then later in a sketch pad, I thought of a way to create a soap catcher by having a wire hanger held over the dispenser with a little chain leading down to a metal circle that could hold a small cup.
While on shift I would imagine going to the hardware store and then coming in early to install it. By the time my shift ended I abandoned the idea as I was overcome with the joy of going home.
But then, last week… there was some string hanging by the Drive Thru area left over from a promotional sign. I unravelled it, and measured it around the dispenser. I walked to the front and asked for a pair of scissors from the manager. I walked to the drink assembly area and chose an extra small cup. I used a thumbtack from the bulletin board to poke two holes in it. I stuck two paperclips (leftover from the bills for the cash drawer) into the holes and attached the string.
All of this was happening in fits and spurts between orders. I’d get one part done, and then have to stop as a little rush of cars came through the drive-thru, then I’d get back to it for a few moments. Eventually I finished it. My masterpiece…
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