I vigorously steer my car into the parking space and switch my gear to ¨P¨. I gaze over the dashboard and it reads ¨3:54¨. ¨Perfect¨ I think, ¨I still have time¨. I quickly take off my outerwear and kick off my shoes and replace it with a rough, denim button-up dress and cute brown boots. Irritatedly, I pushed the buttons one by one which took another minute. I look at the time again ¨4 more minutes, and I still haven't put on my shoes!¨ I thought. I hustled and put on my shoes. ¨Okay, what next?¨ I look at the rear side mirror and notice bags that definitely were not Gucci under my eyes.

I quickly rubbed a tad of concealer onto my eyes and did whatever else was necessary to finish looking presentable. ¨4:00”.

I look at the rear side mirror once more and take a deep breath ¨you are a kind, responsible, confident, irresistibly se--¨ actually, no one needs to know what I say to myself every morning.

I take a deep breath and I walk out of my car. “Crap” I say as Beans and Brews coffee cups fall out of my car. I pick up the garbage one by one and shove them back.

I immediately recognized the sign of the place I was walking in to: ¨PunchTuna¨ a Japanese fish restaurant.

My friend, Kei, had been working there for over 2 years. He impressively became a manger at the age of 17 and made an impressive hourly wage.  I’ve been struggling to meet ends for the last month so I decided I was going to do whatever it took for me to get by.

I pulled myself together and confidently enter the restaurant. “I got this” I say to myself. Unexpectedly, the first person I notice was a slightly bulgy mid-twenty-year-old man with electric pink hair. ¨Are you Trish?” the man asks.

“Yes” I replied uncomfortably.

“Heaarrrd. Heard, heard, heard.  I’m Lagwagon, the general manager of this restaurant. Take a seat”

I’ve been working really hard to accept everybody, but it was interesting to see a man named Lagwagon be in charge of the business. I sit on the bench directly across from him in the little booth we were placed on.

“Look,” he says with his hands thrown on the table, “I looked at your availability and we are not hiring people during lunch hours”.

I was silent because I wasn’t expecting such a direct answer within the first thirty seconds of interaction with the dude. “Oh, well, that’s okay, I c--”

“But I have heard amazing things about you, Trish. My mind caught interest. “Your friend, Kei, has told me that you have all of the skills we need at our restaurant and that you are an excellent worker. And I trust Kei completely. I also called your former supervisor’s phone number which was written on your resume and he said you didn’t even have an interview, is that right?”

“Yeah,” I laughed awkwardly. “I came in for lunch one day and he saw me talk to a customer. I guess seeing me was enough motivation to follow me to my car and ask if I wanted a job haha.”

“Heard” he smiled, “we are looking for friendly, hard-working people to join our crew. And you, you have a great smile, great personality, you’re perfect! I just wish you had more availability. What’s holding you back?”

“Well,” I began, “I’m currently studying 4-6 hours in Salt Lake City to get the best training in clothing design. Additionally I am working on graduating early so I can’t work any other times except these times.” Keep in mind, I was really nervous at this point. I rushed my way over to the restaurant, I was technically late, and I wasn’t expecting talking to a manager who didn’t want my lunch hours. Usually, restaurants don’t have enough people working at that specific time.

“Crucial,” nodded Lagwagon “Well, Trish, How much are you wanting to make at the restaurant?”

Unfortunately, I didn’t do my research. I was currently working for $10 an hour at my other job plus gratuity. The only problem with my other job was I never got consistent hours. I was already late, I made a bad impression, I laugh awkwardly, and I don’t even know if I speak English correctly. My fingers fidgetly rub against each other due to the process of thinking. My heart started pounding loudly and I silently couldn’t breath. Heat struck my face...I don’t know why this was such a hard question for me to answer!

“Ten dollars.” I finally blurt out. “Ten dollars. Ten dollars?!” I question to myself, “I averagely make out $12-$15 dollars at my other job, why did I stupidly state $10? I know my worth, and I am a fantastic employee. Why?”  

Lagwagon gives me a squint. “How about $10.50?” He offered. “That’s awesome!” I replied. What have I done? I don’t know why I let my weaknesses increase how bad I feel about myself. I know damn straight I am worth at least $13 an hour. I just don’t understand why I don’t let myself let other people know that I am an amazing human.

Lagwagon continued explaining about the work environment, what I’m going to do, etcetera, until finally he asked one significant question: “Any other concerns?”

Oh, I had a concern, all right. My parents taught me when somebody offers you a price you always ask the question--

“Can you do better than 10.50?” I frantically ask.

Lagwagon looked at me like some foreign alien and he was the one with pink hair.

“I asked you what you’re looking to make here, not the other way around. At PunchTuna, we focus on communication because if you don’t communicate, you won’t be successful around here. We love to have fun, but we are a professional business. How much are you really wanting to make?”

Without thinking again, I shamefully say “Twelve,”. I know I could’ve done better. I already made a bad impression, I didn’t want to seem like I was asking for too much. Even though I spouted out that number, I knew that the opinions of others didn’t matter and that I should’ve asked for more...I still should’ve aimed high.

TBD

I vigorously steer my car into the parking space and switch my gear to ¨P¨. I gaze over the dashboard and it reads ¨3:54¨. ¨Perfect¨ I think, ¨I still have time¨. I quickly take off my outerwear and kick off my shoes and replace it with a rough, denim button-up dress and cute brown boots. Irritatedly, I pushed the buttons one by one which took another minute. I look at the time again ¨4 more minutes, and I still haven't put on my shoes!¨ I thought. I hustled and put on my shoes. ¨Okay, what next?¨ I look at the rear side mirror and notice bags that definitely were not Gucci under my eyes.

I quickly rubbed a tad of concealer onto my eyes and did whatever else was necessary to finish looking presentable. ¨4:00”.

I look at the rear side mirror once more and take a deep breath ¨you are a kind, responsible, confident, irresistibly se--¨ actually, no one needs to know what I say to myself every morning.

I take a deep breath and I walk out of my car. “Crap” I say as Beans and Brews coffee cups fall out of my car. I pick up the garbage one by one and shove them back.

I immediately recognized the sign of the place I was walking in to: ¨PunchTuna¨ a Japanese fish restaurant.

My friend, Kei, had been working there for over 2 years. He impressively became a manger at the age of 17 and made an impressive hourly wage.  I’ve been struggling to meet ends for the last month so I decided I was going to do whatever it took for me to get by.

I pulled myself together and confidently enter the restaurant. “I got this” I say to myself. Unexpectedly, the first person I notice was a slightly bulgy mid-twenty-year-old man with electric pink hair. ¨Are you Trish?” the man asks.

“Yes” I replied uncomfortably.

“Heaarrrd. Heard, heard, heard.  I’m Lagwagon, the general manager of this restaurant. Take a seat”

I’ve been working really hard to accept everybody, but it was interesting to see a man named Lagwagon be in charge of the business. I sit on the bench directly across from him in the little booth we were placed on.

“Look,” he says with his hands thrown on the table, “I looked at your availability and we are not hiring people during lunch hours”.

I was silent because I wasn’t expecting such a direct answer within the first thirty seconds of interaction with the dude. “Oh, well, that’s okay, I c--”

“But I have heard amazing things about you, Trish. My mind caught interest. “Your friend, Kei, has told me that you have all of the skills we need at our restaurant and that you are an excellent worker. And I trust Kei completely. I also called your former supervisor’s phone number which was written on your resume and he said you didn’t even have an interview, is that right?”

“Yeah,” I laughed awkwardly. “I came in for lunch one day and he saw me talk to a customer. I guess seeing me was enough motivation to follow me to my car and ask if I wanted a job haha.”

“Heard” he smiled, “we are looking for friendly, hard-working people to join our crew. And you, you have a great smile, great personality, you’re perfect! I just wish you had more availability. What’s holding you back?”

“Well,” I began, “I’m currently studying 4-6 hours in Salt Lake City to get the best training in clothing design. Additionally I am working on graduating early so I can’t work any other times except these times.” Keep in mind, I was really nervous at this point. I rushed my way over to the restaurant, I was technically late, and I wasn’t expecting talking to a manager who didn’t want my lunch hours. Usually, restaurants don’t have enough people working at that specific time.

“Crucial,” nodded Lagwagon “Well, Trish, How much are you wanting to make at the restaurant?”

Unfortunately, I didn’t do my research. I was currently working for $10 an hour at my other job plus gratuity. The only problem with my other job was I never got consistent hours. I was already late, I made a bad impression, I laugh awkwardly, and I don’t even know if I speak English correctly. My fingers fidgetly rub against each other due to the process of thinking. My heart started pounding loudly and I silently couldn’t breath. Heat struck my face...I don’t know why this was such a hard question for me to answer!

“Ten dollars.” I finally blurt out. “Ten dollars. Ten dollars?!” I question to myself, “I averagely make out $12-$15 dollars at my other job, why did I stupidly state $10? I know my worth, and I am a fantastic employee. Why?”  

Lagwagon gives me a squint. “How about $10.50?” He offered. “That’s awesome!” I replied. What have I done? I don’t know why I let my weaknesses increase how bad I feel about myself. I know damn straight I am worth at least $13 an hour. I just don’t understand why I don’t let myself let other people know that I am an amazing human.

Lagwagon continued explaining about the work environment, what I’m going to do, etcetera, until finally he asked one significant question: “Any other concerns?”

Oh, I had a concern, all right. My parents taught me when somebody offers you a price you always ask the question--

“Can you do better than 10.50?” I frantically ask.

Lagwagon looked at me like some foreign alien and he was the one with pink hair.

“I asked you what you’re looking to make here, not the other way around. At PunchTuna, we focus on communication because if you don’t communicate, you won’t be successful around here. We love to have fun, but we are a professional business. How much are you really wanting to make?”

Without thinking again, I shamefully say “Twelve,”. I know I could’ve done better. I already made a bad impression, I didn’t want to seem like I was asking for too much. Even though I spouted out that number, I knew that the opinions of others didn’t matter and that I should’ve asked for more...I still should’ve aimed high.