Chichos

Diagnostic Essay:

Imagine a place where you're able to hang out with your closest friends, listen to your favorite songs, and drink free drinks until you can't drink anymore. Sounds great, right? Now imagine being paid good money to hang out in a place like this. Waitressing at Chichos was by far the most fun I've ever had at a job.

At around three every afternoon my day would start. I would wake up, eat a quick meal, shower, and then begin texting my entire phonebook informing my friends of what deals were being offered at Chichos for the night. Later, around five i would arrive at work. As I opened up the dining room my phone would always be ringing off the hook with responses as to who would be able to make it out that night. I would then sit at the bar, ask the bartender to fix me a long island iced tea, and wait patiently for my friends to arrive. Of course as I waited I would tend to the regulars who, like clockwork, always arrived the second we opened. I didn't mind, seeing as I gradually got to know these people and could always carry on a good conversation with them.

A few drinks later, around eight o clock, my friends would start to arrive. They would always order the same thing: a three dollar pitcher of bud light. The bartender would always prepare a drink for me along with their beer. My friends and I would just sit around talking and laughing until nine rolled around and we could set up the beer pong tables. I would always make sure to sign them up for the first game. On slower nights I would sign myself up as well. The sounds of laughter, music blaring through the overhead speakers, and the dunking noise of the pong balls landing in the cups of water always made me feel right at home.

As the night carried on, I would become more and more intoxicated. It always seemed as if the less sober I was, the more customers would tip me. Most likely because of how much more social I became. It seemed as if my pockets would fill as quickly as my bladder. Towards the end of the night, I would take my time doing my sidework because the baretender would continue to concoct all different kinds of drinks for me. I actually didn't even want to go home. Still, my friends would help me out with my cleaning duties so we could head to my best friends, who happened to work with me as well, apartment which was a couple blocks down the street.

I've never been able to find another job that I enjoy as much as I did Chichos. The atmosphere just seems unmatchable. I guess it's probably better I don't work there anymore however. That just doesn't seem like the kind of environment I should be in when I have school to focus on. Yet, it truly was a one of a kind job.






Diagnostic Essay Revised:

Good friends, good music, and good booze always seem to be three main characteristics of my ideal atmosphere. Now, another favorite of mine happens to be money, and with my job at Chicho’s all of these things were combined. I was being paid good money to hang out with my friends and drink free drinks all night long, all the while listening to my favorite playlists on my iPod over the loud speakers.

Everyday I would sleep in until 3:00 pm. I would wake up, shower, and text everyone in my phonebook letting them know what deals or what drinking games Chicho’s was having that night. I would get to work around five and begin opening the restaurant up while my phone rang off the hook with responses from friends who were eager to come out that night. After opening, I would sit at the bar and sip on a long island iced tea until the first customers arrived. It was never a long wait, however, because the regulars seemed to arrive as soon as we opened everyday, like clockwork. I didn't mind, seeing as I gradually got to know these people and could always carry on a good conversation with them.

A few drinks later, around 8:00, my friends would start to arrive. They would always order the same thing: a three dollar pitcher of bud light. Along with this the bartender would always prepare a drink for me as well. My friends and I would just sit around talking and laughing until nine rolled around and we could set up the beer pong tables. I would always make sure to sign them up for the first game. On slower nights I would sign myself up as well. The sounds of laughter, music blaring through the overhead speakers, and the dunking noise of the pong balls landing in the cups of water always made me feel right at home.

As the night carried on, I would become more and more intoxicated. It always seemed as if the less sober I was the more customers would tip me. Most likely because of how much more social I became. It seemed as if my pockets would fill as quickly as my bladder. Towards the end of the night, I would take my time doing my side work because the bartender would continue to concoct a variety of different kinds of drinks for me. I actually didn't even want to go home. Still, my friends would help me out with my cleaning duties so we could head to my best friends apartment, who happened to work with me as well, which was a couple blocks down the street.

I've never been able to find another job that I enjoy as much as I did Chichos. The atmosphere just seems unmatchable. I guess it's probably better I don't work there anymore however. That just doesn't seem like the kind of environment I should be in when I have school to focus on. Yet, it truly was a one of a kind job.