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Pecking Order
Annamarie Midtlyng
certain fast food chain changed its name to an acronym because some CEO
A somewhere decided customers might perceive the restaurant as more healthy if
"Fried Chicken" were not part of the name. That was the first deception. The
second was my official job title, Team Member. There was no team, just a hierarchy in
which speaking English and a high school diploma were suddenly irrelevant in the social
order. It was my first job.
The order was tri-level as follows: The store manager, Thelma, was on top, fol­
lowed by the shift manager, Javier, then came the cooks, and myself and the other team
members. In theory I was on the bottom, the same level as the cooks, but I didn't speak
Spanish so really I was off the chart somewhere below all the order. I had tutored seniors
in math skills during my freshman year of high school, but I wasn't permitted to count
out my own drawer at night.
Thelma trained me during my first week Afterward, she was the mother of us
latchkey employees, stopping in every so often to make sure that the store was running
correctly and that we were staying out of trouble. Thelma was round, had dark hair and
olive skin. She seemed gentle and understanding, but wasn't afraid to pull out the belt, so
to speak She adored me for the excellent job I was doing, especially after I received a
bonus when the corporate offices sent a mystery shopper and I passed.
Javier was the shift manager every shift I worked. He was tall, slim but muscu­
lar, and had olive-yellow skin. His smile gave him a childlike quality undeserving of fear,
however his frown could intimidate a pit bull. His eyebrows scrunched together so that
they looked like one and his lips adhered to each other in a downward arc. The tone of
my shift was determined by the expression I noted on his face when I began my shift
each day.
First I learned about selling and appearance, the duties secondary to what was
most important. I learned how to work the register and what words I was supposed to
use when taking an order. These words were meant to be rehearsed, but sound like a per­
sonal greeting with each customer.
"Hi. Welcome to KFC. My name is Kim. May I take your order, please?"
I couldn't figure out how I was supposed to deceive the next person in line
when they'd already heard my dialogue. I also couldn't figure out how I was supposed to
maintain the grotesquely huge smile that Thelma always wore when she helped cus­
tomers. I never saw anyone else smiling around that place, so when Thelma wasn't
around, I gave my own speech, minus the corny grin.
"Can I help you?"
I didn't quite understand why we fussed over proper order taking procedure.
This fast food restaurant was ill-defined as it was. It could take up to twenty minutes for
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