In my first year of university, I worked my first part-time job at a bakery in front of the station.
The manager was a very strict person, and in the first week I was made to memorize the names of all the breads and to practice greetings over and over.
To be honest, there were times when I wanted to quit.
One day I made a mistake counting money at the register and got scolded by a customer.
Seeing how down I was, the manager said to me, “There is no one who never fails. You just have to not repeat the same mistake.”
After hearing those words, I gradually came to enjoy the work.
When regular customers remembered my name, or praised us saying “the bread here is the best,” I was truly happy.
Having worked there for three years, I feel I learned not only customer-service skills but also what it means to work.
That strict manager, it turns out, seems to have cared about me more than anyone else.
Even now I sometimes remember the smell of the bread in that shop.
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