Why Waiters Don't Start Unions

I have been reading Down and Out in Paris and London, by George Orwell, and while not his most famous work, by a long shot, it is still amazing. This afternoon, reflecting on class, Presidential elections and the inequality that is rampant down here in Brazil, and becomes more and more common in the richest country in the world (our beloved US and A), I thought I would share a tiny bit of this phenomenal book with you, my cherished reader.

"The moral is, never be sorry for a waiter. Sometimes when you sit in a restaurant, still stuffing yourself half an hour after closing time, you feel that the tired waiter at your side must surely be despising you. But he is not. He is not thinking as he looks at you, 'What an overfed lout'; he is thinking, 'One day, when I have saved enough money, I shall be able to imitate that man.' He is ministering to a kind of pleasure he thoroughly understands and admires. And that is why waiters are seldom Socialists, have no effective trade unions, and will work twelve hours a day--they work fifteen hours, seven days a week, in many cafes. They are snobs, and they find the servile nature of their work congenial."

I worked at the Central Park Boathouse restaurant for a month, and it was one of the worst jobs of my life. Orwell is completely right. I have never felt more servile, and was treated with arrogance by the biggest slaves of all in the restaurant business, the waiters. Of course, compared to the goon of an owner of that hell-hole, they were angels.