Diner Dash

I have just recently started playing Diner Dash. Call me a late-bloomer. I don’t care. I hate the Techies worst because they piss everyone off, except families and lovebirds. Next to the Techies, I hate the lovebirds for the same reason.
Bussing the tables pumps my adrenaline and makes my right shoulder ache. This pasttime, this supposedly relaxing activity after a day’s work has me tensing up instead of winding down. Every group has its own personality, attention span and length of patience. As the game progressed, the Quota gets higher and the customers more demanding. But as in real life, however, if you don’t meet the quota, you won’t get ahead in life, even if in Diner Dash, it only means having enough to get a new wardrobe, and the promise of a vacation.
And while I am enjoying Diner Dash, I cannot help but think afterwards that for most people waiting on tables and being pressured to keep the customers happy is more than a game, it is the very real life. When I get tried, and irritated, of being told what to do, what to get, who to serve, I can always click the Quit button and have an instant break.
I wonder how many waitressses, janitors, busboys, chambermaids, drivers, cashiers, callcenter agents etc, who would want to be able to click that Quit button too, even if for a little respite only.
This is a salute to all those often unnoticed and little appreciated workers in the service sector.

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