It was a warm Sunday arvo, perfect for a barbecue at the park.
Jess’s family and their neighbours, the Robbs, met up almost every month. They lived a few streets apart, so it had become a regular thing.
Kids ran around playing footy, parents chatted with drinks in hand, and the smell of steak filled the air.
Rob, the neighbour dad, was working the grill like always. While flipping steaks, he spotted Jess sitting by herself on the edge of the picnic area, hoodie up, scrolling her phone. She wasn’t joining in, wasn’t even laughing at her cousins mucking around.
Rob plated up a perfectly cooked steak, carried it over, and sat beside her.
“Hey Jess, thought you might want first dibs. Fresh off the grill.”
Jess looked up, forcing a smile. “Thanks, Uncle Rob. How you going?”
Rob handed her the plate. “Better than you look, kiddo. What’s up? You hiding out over here for a reason?”
Jess poked at the steak with her fork. “Can you… not tell Mum and Dad?”
Rob raised an eyebrow. “Scout’s honour. What’s going on?”
Jess sighed. “I just lost my job. Again. Third one this year. I can’t even last a month anywhere. What’s wrong with me?”
Rob leaned back against the park bench. “Didn’t know that. What kinda jobs?”
“Waitressing. First café, then a pizza place, then a bistro. They always say stuff like ‘not enough shifts’ or ‘we’re cutting staff.’ But… it feels like it’s more than that. Feels like they just don’t want me.”
Rob gave her a sideways look. “Alright, wanna know some insider stuff? You know I run a big retail chain, right? I don’t do the firing myself, but I sign off on it. Most of the time, managers don’t tell people the real reason they’re let go. Too awkward. They just say something like ‘not enough hours.’”
Jess frowned. “So… what’s the real reason then?”
Rob smirked. “Honestly? Nine times out of ten, it’s attitude. Not showing up with energy. Being on your phone all the time. Acting like you don’t care. Doesn’t matter if it’s dead quiet in the shop — bosses notice that stuff.”
Jess shifted in her seat. “Yeah… I mean, I wasn’t lazy, but I did get bored. Like, when no one was ordering food, I’d just check my phone. Or if my mates came in, sometimes I’d duck into the kitchen so they wouldn’t see me in my dumb apron.”
Rob chuckled. “See, that’s the thing. Bosses want you to act like you own the place, even if you’re just cleaning tables. Show some hustle. Be the person who’s smiling, helping out, making the customer’s day easier. That’s the stuff that keeps you on the roster.”
Jess pushed her hood back. “So basically, my boss wanted me to pretend I’m the manager?”
“Not pretend,” Rob said. “Just care. Think about it — why do people open a restaurant? They’ve usually saved for years, dreamed about it forever. Every customer matters. If their staff look bored or annoyed, customers won’t come back. That’s money walking out the door.”
“Just imagine you and your mates spend ages building this epic Dungeons & Dragons campaign— late-night calls, brainstorming, figuring out character builds. It’s your thing, right? Then this newbie joins. Doesn’t know how to play, which is fine, but instead of asking questions or learning, he just talks nonsense the whole time. He’s not even trying, and it’s ruining the game.”
“He derails the story, interrupts the Dungeon Master, and talks over people who are actually trying to enjoy the game. And the worst part? People start leaving. Friends who loved the game but got fed up with the constant disruptions. All that effort, gone, because one guy couldn’t even respect the group. Would you sack him?”
“Yes, absolutely!” Jess replied. She thought about it a bit more. “So… my job isn’t just carrying plates. It’s respect the business and making sure people wanna come back.”
“Exactly.” Rob pointed his tongs at her. “Even your mates. Next time they walk in, don’t hide. Greet them, help them choose, make them feel welcome. Your boss will love you for it, because you just turned your mates into repeat customers.”
Jess nodded slowly. “Okay… so I’m not just serving food, I’m selling the whole vibe.”
Rob grinned. “Now you’re getting it.”
Jess stared at the grass, chewing on the idea. “It just sucks, though. Like, everyone my age’s got a job. I keep stuffing it up.”
“Hey,” Rob said firmly, “having any job is already something to be proud of. Making your own money, even if it’s just casual shifts, that’s independence. Way better than sitting at home all day doing nothing. Trust me, plenty of teens don’t even try.”
Jess let out a small laugh. “Guess you’re right. Can’t buy my sneakers with vibes alone.”
Rob smirked. “Exactly. And look, you don’t have to love waitressing forever. But for now? Learn the basics: be reliable, be friendly, care a little about the business. You do that, you’ll keep a job longer than most people.”
Later that night, Jess lay in bed thinking about it.
Rob wasn’t just lecturing her. He’d actually given her a new way to look at work.
Maybe her job wasn’t about being perfect.
Maybe it was just about showing up, bringing good energy, and making people wanna come back.
The next week, she went job hunting again. This time, she promised herself she’d try Rob’s advice.
When she finally landed a new waitressing gig, she made eye contact with customers, joked with kids at tables, and even waved when her mates walked in.
And for the first time ever… she kept the job. Not just for weeks, but for years.
