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Pizza Hut Doesn't Know What It's Missing

Jack W. Dunst

You know what? I don’t care if they don’t think I’m right for the job. I went in there and put my best foot forward. I said I was excited about joining the team and laid out exactly how hiring me would benefit the operation. If they’re too narrow-minded to see what I have to offer, then that’s their loss. All I can say is, Pizza Hut doesn’t know what it’s missing.

I won’t deny it—I wanted that position. When I read the want ads, I carefully considered the type of work, the commute time, the meal benefits, and the starting wages offered by the various restaurants in the area. Then, I factored my skill and experience levels into my decision. Out of all the options, the Pizza Hut on Pflaum Road next to the Costco had the most to offer me.

And I brought a lot to the table to offer them in return. Upbeat, can-do attitude? Check. Fast-learning self-starter? Check. Willingness to work weekends and night shifts, regardless of the inconvenience? Check. How many prospective employees can say all that?

I thought I did pretty well in the interview with that assistant manager—Greg, I think was his name. But if Greg thinks somebody else is a better candidate for the job, then he’s entitled to his opinion. He’s the one who’s going to have to live with his decision. For his sake, I hope whomever he hired over me is good. If that other guy doesn’t work out, Pizza Hut better not come crying to me. I’ve moved on.

Pizza Hut’s short-sightedness will be their undoing, because I’m about to take my talents to one of their competitors. Only after I’m already settled in making burritos at Taco John’s or squeezing out cones at TCBY will Pizza Hut recognize its error.

Still, what a heavy blow.

No, I’m not going to cry. I won’t give Pizza Hut the satisfaction.

Maybe in some strange way, the rejection is for the best. I probably wouldn’t have worked out at Pizza Hut, anyway. A guy like me can’t be happy working for people who don’t appreciate quality. Look what happened at Dunkin’ Donuts. You’d think that good customer service and a positive attitude toward the challenges of the job would be enough, but it’s all politics. The brass at Dunkin’ Donuts needed to make cutbacks. I didn’t have the seniority, so I got my walking papers.

Did I bemoan Dunkin’ Donuts’ egregious mistake? I did not. Okay, I was devastated for a few weeks. Why wouldn’t I be? I gave my all for five months, only to see it slip right down the drain. But I’ve put it behind me. I’ve picked up the pieces and moved on. That’s the nature of the fast-food biz. You’ve gotta roll with the punches. Adaptability is the key. The dinosaurs couldn’t adapt, and look where they are now.

I’m only upset because I know that I would’ve been a real force at Pizza Hut, if they’d given me a chance. I would’ve grated the hell out of that cheese. I would’ve poured my heart and soul into that sauce. And there wouldn’t have been any shortages in my till, because I’m a professional.

I’m not perfect, but I do believe that if something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well. Good luck finding another guy like me, Mister Fancy-Pants Greg The Assistant Manager. I hope you got a good look at me, Greg, because I’m the one that got away.

Okay, maybe the interview didn’t go as well as I thought. Maybe I didn’t get hired because I lack some insignificant surface-level qualities that Pizza Hut evidently looks for in a second-shift cook.

Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret that the Pizza Hut powers-that-be don’t know: Pizza Hut isn’t the only place that received an application signed Jack W. Dunst. That’s right, I just happen to have a few other applications out there. So, just because Pizza Hut can’t see the skills that I have to offer, that doesn’t mean I’m going to deprive someone else of them.

I’ll recover from this setback. It may seem overwhelming now, but I’ll survive. I’m young. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me. Whatever doesn’t kill me makes me stronger, Pizza Hut! Just wait until I start getting phone calls about all those back-up applications. Then we’ll see who picked the winning horse and who missed out. I wonder how you’ll feel, Pizza Hut, when Jack W. Dunst doesn’t even remember your name.