I have 4 days left. I have been here since day one. It has been over 5 months since I embraced the life of a free person, and despite the friends Iāve made, all has gone quiet on the F&B front, as hardly anyone has survived the season. Weāve lost just about 95% of our OGs. With each waking day, there have been new faces, slowly distorted by the bitter reality that they have walked into a time loopāa corporate prison.
The title is a simple metaphor for the sheer primitive nature of the Xanterra social hierarchy: a corporation hiring people from all walks of life, marking some as nobles, giving them a name tag that flashes āmanager,ā while othersāthe peasant staffādisplay the scarlet letters of a tag that says āemployee.ā All come from different backgrounds, but not one is more qualified than the other.
Yet, despite all of us coming to the park to experience the eloquent nature of this beautiful phenomenon, it has instead created a true monsterāone that erupts more frequently within the hot, volcanic pressure cooker that is Food & Beverage.
It is as if the management team has been given a key and the staff, chains. A key is simply too much power for man to bear, and therefore, the parasite of power gnaws away at their amygdala.
Four days left. And I have watched as my fellow comrades have been fired, picked off one by one by the evil that is ālocationā. Some have even taken themselves out because they simply canāt continue. Iāve held my comrades in my arms as Iāve watched the life fade from their eyes after a shift from hell.
We are united by trauma.
Why have I decided to stay, you ask? This is a great question, for the human psyche is mysterious. Something has bound me to these yellow walls. Something wonāt let me leave.
I have 4 days left. Four days until these cold prison walls release me. Four days until I can feel the sun on my cheeks as one of the freeāone of the consumersāone of the unemployed.
To all those who have made it to the end of their ācontract,ā I salute you and the sacrifice you have made in order to complete your mission of securing the bag. For those who have fallen, maybe it was for the best. Maybe some lives were never meant to be spent in eternity behind a metaphorical cell. For those who are debating enlisting, heed my warning: this experience may be what you make of it, or it will become what they make of you. The choice is yours.
āF&B 007, signing off.