Personal Narrative: Life At Whataburger

To tell my story, I have to set the scene. It was the summer of 2014, the Thursday before school started actually. I had not seen familiar faces in a while so, I was ready to get back. I did not realize it yet, but taking a job at Whataburger would be the biggest (only) mistake I ever made. My first job was horrible. I did not really know how bad those fast food jobs really were until I got my first job. I was a cook at Whataburger. Yes Whataburger in Decatur, the Texas treasure, the Alcatraz of the west, the worst place to work in America. Believe me when I say that Whataburger is the closest thing to hell a human can experience. Maybe not that far, but it is bad. The job was not that bad at first. Everyone would joke around be relaxed, and have a good time. However, Whataburger does something to you. Whataburger sucks your soul out of you in an agonizing process known as “Whataburger’ll do that to ya,” killing you slowly everyday. A variety of factors would contribute to
The GM was solely concerned about the orders getting out in less than 5 minutes but did not consider the managers to be the problem no, it must have been those “punk” teenagers who work there. The managers were also getting more annoying. They would give us the most tedious and boring jobs and then yell at us if we did not do them fast enough. On this particular day, I had been yelled at a couple of times. They made me do the crappy jobs again. I got off late again. That night something inside of me snapped. I looked in the mirror, and I didn't like what I saw. I remember saying to myself, look at what you have done to yourself; you've aged ten years in the nine months you've worked there. In the coming weeks I put in my notice and deuced out (left). I have lived the rest of my days in peace knowing that I would never have to go back to that succubus of a restaurant, and understanding how bad those workers really have