Personal Narrative: Working At A Salt Lake Restaurant

The day my district manager ask if I’d be interested in working in Salt Lake City to train new workers for the restaurant I was working at was a strange day for me.
It happened when I was eighteen years old, I’d had to drop out of High School to support myself, as my parents had died a few months before my seventeenth birthday.
My much older brothers weren’t really willing to support me, so I’d began working at a seafood Restaurant at sixteen.
I quickly was made assistant manager and was on track to becoming the manager of my own store.
At the time I was living in Kennewick Washington renting my parents’ home from my older brother.

After mulling over the offer of a move to an unknown place, I decided it might be a fun adventure, I also didn’t really feel happy living all alone in my

Tweeter was happy to be out of the car, I let her out of her cage for a short time, and she had always been a good bird about going back in once she’d got her exercise.

The night was uneventful, the next morning I set out for the last part of my trip, the weather was nice and it was Sunday so it seemed there wasn’t as much traffic. As I got closer to Salt Lake I became a bit apprehensive, what if I hated it there, and what if my co-workers didn’t want my help! I tried to push the negative thoughts out of my mind, but as I grew closer to the big city it only became worse.
I finally pulled into a gas station to get gas and to look at my map, it seemed that Salt Lake City was fairly easy to get around in, it was built on a grid, so if you paid attention you could get places fairly easy.
State Street seemed to be the main street and also the street that would take me to my new work.
The restaurant had made arrangements for me to stay at an easy stay motel apartment, they’d even made sure I could have my parakeet with me with no