LongIslandYid

As I enjoyed a well-deserved omelet on a cinnamon raisin bagel in one of my favorite joints, I could not help but notice that the kid bussing tables and sweeping the floor had what I could only describe as a depressed look on his face. Not depressed like he had just lost a loved one, Heaven forbid, but a face that to me was all too familiar. It was the face that I made virtually every second of the five years that I worked in food service (on the inside at the very least). I was inclined to greet him and try to tell him something that would have changed his life—that his job wasn’t just a means to an end, but an end in itself, a chance to grow, to climb, to open doors to a whole world of possibility if he could simply shift his perspective. I opted to stay silent, foolishly, nervous I’d fumble the words, but I’m writing this now to redeem that missed opportunity, for him and for anyone feeling stuck in what they call a “dead-end” job. The food service industry can be unforgiving at times. Stressed out bosses, customers with a ticking lunch break, and co-workers who don’t always see eye-to-eye makes the food service industry among the most stressful in-the-moment industries out there (not to mention the financial difficulties it comes with naturally). I, a desperate wannabe rockstar, was miserable, bitter toward customers and coworkers, counting down the seconds to leave daily. Looking back, I only see now the character and work ethic that those five years instilled in me, warts and all.

My great-grandfather of blessed memory was a successful caterer, a man who built a thriving business out of feeding people, and an even larger reputation for being extremely charitable. Allow me to paint two different pictures for you now: picture A is of an aspiring rockstar slaving away (at the hands of their own devices, unbeknownst to them) at a restaurant. All this guy can think of is how he’s not a rockstar and how terrible it is to have to work hard for a living. Picture B is of an aspiring rockstar hustling at a restaurant while simultaneously pursuing a career in music. He recognizes that his current employment puts him on a direct path to a more advanced-level job in the industry, like operating one’s own catering business, management, becoming a chef etc. In both cases they are pursuing a career in music and working the seemingly dead-end job simultaneously. The only difference is the way they perceive their situation. By simply perceiving the dead-end job as a possible gateway to a successful career, even if not the ideal at the time, he can go to work every day with confidence, living in the moment, not just passing through like a breeze.

In my first blog post, I wrote about how our culture tends to misguidedly look down upon manual labor trades like plumbing or electrical work, and how that societal view influenced myself and so many others to avoid those paths from a very young age. Food service isn’t any different. I’m disappointed in myself for not internalizing my great-grandfather’s legacy sooner. I could have seen the food biz as a craft, a way to serve and connect, not just a paycheck to blow.  I could have worked my way up the corporate ladder, maybe had a career in restaurant management by now, or met people—maybe even wealthy folks in other industries—who could’ve opened doors I didn’t even know existed. I read something in Jordan Peterson’s Beyond Order: 12 More Rules for Life that really struck a chord in me: someone working at the restaurant Dr. Peterson was dining in approached him with tears in his eyes. He used to be bitter about his “dead-end” job, but upon drawing influence and inspiration from Peterson’s work, the waiter decided that the best course of action was to be the very best waiter he could be. He worked hard, got promoted multiple times in just a few months, and got to thank the man himself (Peterson, 2021). When I read that, I was working a cushy office job, and I was jealous of that guy. Oh, how I wished I had just been aware of this perspective during my time in food service.

Maybe you’re in your late teens or early twenties, working in a restaurant, a cubicle, or a labor trade, or maybe you’re older and just not happy with your job. It’s not about staying in a job that makes you miserable, but about seeing it differently, finding meaning in work, and using it to increase your skills, experience, and marketability. Work isn’t just a means to an end; with the right mentality, work is an end in itself. When you consciously remind yourself that your efforts benefit the lives of others—customers, coworkers, bosses, even yourself—it transforms the daunting parts into something satisfying, something even greater than yourself. In Exodus 20:9, the Torah says, “Six days shall you work and accomplish all your work” — Work is woven into the fabric of creation, a divine call to contribute to the society one is blessed to be a part of. Viktor Frankl of blessed memory, in Man’s Search for Meaning regards work as one of the three primary sources of meaning in life (along with love and the endurance of unavoidable suffering) (Frankl, 2014). Regardless of how insignificant you might think your current occupation is, recognize that it contains the potential for that meaning right now—serving others, growing yourself, and building a future.

What’s the best way to go about this? One idea is to start each day by acknowledging who benefits from your labor. Write it down or say it to yourself: “I’m feeding hungry people who can go do their jobs. I’m helping the business owner support their family. I’m earning money to pay rent or save for college.” Look for the ripple effect—your work touches countless lives. When I was in restaurants, I didn’t think about how my serving a plate of food helped a customer recharge for their day or how my attitude could’ve lifted my coworkers’ otherwise bad days. I could’ve learned skills like leadership, communication, or maybe even become a chef, making me more marketable for better jobs or even climbing within the company. I wonder what could have been if I had really tried networking with some of the countless customers I interacted with daily—maybe one was a music producer who could have completely redirected my course. This doesn’t mean every job is your forever job. If you’re in a toxic workplace or simply feel like it’s time to move on, it’s okay to leave. But while you’re there, wake up and smell the ‘not-as-good-as-yours-at-home’ coffee.

Opportunity lurks everywhere—in the skills you build, the people you meet, the confidence you gain. That kid at the bagel shop? He could be a manager or a head chef one day or use his time and resources to start his own business, if only he will choose to see it. If I could go back, I’d tell my younger self to stop being bitter and start being proactive. I wasted those years, but you don’t have to. Whether you’re flipping burgers, answering phones, or swinging a hammer, your work matters.

 So tomorrow, walk into work and remind yourself: this isn’t just a job—it’s a chance to become more, to serve others, and to find purpose. Take a moment to reflect: who’s benefiting from your work today? Write it down, say it out loud, and let it sink in. Then go be the best you can be, because opportunity is waiting if you just open your eyes.

Frankl, V. E. (2014). Man’s Search for Meaning. Beacon Press.

Peterson, J. B. (2021). Beyond order: 12 more rules for life. Penguin.