Last night my dad and I went to one of our favorite "restaurants." I won't mention the name of the restaurant tonight because I don't want to embarrass anyone.
One of the waitresses was a young woman wearing a t-shirt that succinctly explained her situation (I wish I could print it, but it would identify her and the restaurant).
I didn't ask, but I imagine she had one or two children.
When paying the bill, I must have said something for her to respond. She said she had been working there for just a few months. Her husband had been a trucker in Texas, earning as much as $60,000 in six months, but then the "oil dried up" in their particular area and they were lucky to get $30/week. I don't think I misheard -- she repeated it when I thought I misheard the first time. Regardless, they are up here now and her husband is working again. And so is she.
The good news: both of them originally came from this part of the country, so they are happy to have a reason to return.
But her story and her t-shirt reminded me how lucky some of us really are.
(I didn't want to tell her about the Eagle Ford. She probably already knew, but I didn't want her to be reminded of another reason to leave the Bakken. We need all the workers here we can find.)
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