Memphis, the city I’ve come to loath
Way back in September of last year, I got a call from my recruiter, and she asked me how I would feel doing support during a strike in either Memphis, Tennessee, or Omaha, Nebraska. I told her I had no problem doing support, but that I would prefer to go to Memphis. My thought at the time — it would be a lot like New Orleans; I was wrong.
Is there a certain vibe here in Memphis? Maybe. I don’t find the vibe to be like New Orleans at all though. During my time here working, I have found service to be exceptionally bad. For the life of me I don’t know why, but it just is. The other night I was in line at a drive through to get some fried chicken for dinner, and I ended up leaving empty-handed. I waited in line for twenty-five to thirty minutes and moved forward one time. I know, I know, everyone is struggling with a lack of workers and people resigning and so on and so on.
However, I have had one positive experience while here. I went to another fast-food joint. You know the one where when you say thank you; they say it’s their pleasure. They have adapted, hired and kept enough people to handle the volume of customers. A line of twenty cars was handled in the same twenty-five to thirty minutes. But that is just one example; the unsatisfactory experiences far outweigh the good.
I wanted to like you, Memphis. I wanted to have a good time here and fond memories, but unfortunately that ship has sailed. Here for a few more weeks, and I am now just counting the days till I can finally say farewell.
