Yes.
Since the age of 15.
Woe is me.
I've been forced, AGAINST MY WILL, to wear uniforms to ALL of my jobs (save 1--at the liquor store) since I began working way back when in the 10th grade.
My first job I worked in a banquet hall.
I dressed like a penguin.
I wore black shapeless dress slacks, a white tux shirt (with pleats! and black button stubby thingies), AND a bowtie!
When a new company took over I was forced to wear a CUMMERBUND!
Wtf?
Talk about being traumatized at a young age.
Should I mention that I worked that job for almost 4 years?
Job numero dos was at the pizza place.
I got to wear jeans (PLUS), but I had to wear the same 2 work shirts in rotation (MINUS).
Did you know that when you work in a pizza place, and after you get off work, no matter how much you shower, your HAIR still smells like cheesesteaks and pizza sauce (MINUS)?
And that you can NEVER get the smell of cheesesteaks out of your coveted American Eagle (their jeans were a BIG DEAL for me in high school) jeans (BID MINUS THERE!!!)?
My third job was in college.
I worked in the gym.
I had a cool title: RECy (pronounced: wreck-y).
I wore khaki pants (that made by butt, on good days, look semi decent) and a black polo.
However, the combination of khaki and black, day after day after day, SUCKS BALLS!
Next job: liquor store.
Plus-es all around! I got to wear WHATEVER I WANTED!!!!
Went back to the pizza store... with a twist:
It became a legit restaurant.
I was forced to wear black shoes, pants, and a not so flattering black polo--which I later convinced management to let me wear the boy shirt because the girl shirt was cut weird and looked like crap on me.
Moved to GA--
Now I wear this:
 | |
| Still shapeless AND black and BORING!!! Argh. How is a girl supposed to get a decent tip if she is wearing this!! It only gets worse when I have to put the neck tie and long apron on...! |
Do you notice a change?
NO!
Neither do I.
Seriously, WTF??
It doesn't get any better.
Why? you ask.
Because when I work at the tire store I wear black Dickies shorts (that go 2 inches past my knees) and a black polo style shirt that is 2 sizes too big for me--because my brother ordered the WRONG size!
One day.
One day I'll get to wear pencil skirts and blouses, high heels and tights, blazers and nicely tailored dress slacks...
One day.
OH JEEZZZZZ WHEN IS THAT DAY COMING!
I don't know how much more of this craziness--uniform thing--I can take.
Seriously, I'm cursed.
