*A Day in Dairy Queen*

Because of a conversation on a status change on fb a few moments ago, I've had a sudden flashback to the summer of 2007 when I was staying in Russellville for summer school and working as a Dairy Queen worker. It will always be deemed the most miserable summer of my life, but I am proud to say that I have made it through! There is more fight in me than I ever knew. I've decided to give the public and glimpse into the life of a Dairy Queen worker, but I could never do it justice.

Flashback: Summer 2007

I begin the day by waking up at 6:30 am to go to two of my summer school classes that I slaved over and would not even count towards my degree once switching schools. I went to class from 7:30-11:30 am, then would run back to my lonely apartment and put on my Dairy Queen clothes. Black pants, ugly black tennis shoes, and an oversized grey t-shirt with Dairy Queen printed across the pocket. I'd grab my visor on my way out to the car and rush to make it to work by 12:00.

The smell as I walked in the door is so familiar. A hint of icecream, a hint of greasy burgers, and another hint of old cleaning supplies mixed with dirt. I'd go in and look at the back schedule to see where I'd be placed and head of to the register to make myself "comfortable" for the next eight or nine hours. Standing up for eight hours really takes it's tole on the feet. But the standing up wasn't the worst part.

As I hear my boss yelling on the phone to the police about her crazed daughter she has a restraining order against, i'd see my first costumer coming through the door. "Welcome to Dairy Queen!" I'd say and smile, but usually I was only greeted back with blank stares or just rude comments. It's like I was worth nothing because I was a register girl. I felt so out of place…..so opened to the way things truly are. I was treated so poorly because of where they thought I stood in the social system. I was the lowest to all the redneck costumers, and it seems like they were on a power trip and I was a person they could control. I wanted to scream that I came from a private school and my father is prominent and I AM getting an education!!! I didn't want to be treated like that. But for those days…I played the part of a fast food girl. And that's the way I was treated. It honestly makes me treat all the people I order from with respect and friendliness. We are all God's creation no matter where we fit.

When people would tell me what they wanted, my blood pressure would go up, because it's honestly REALLY hard to type in the orders right. So many buttons and options that kept me nervously hoping that I was doing the right thing. I'd been "trained" but it was honestly so fast and hard to keep up with. I finally got the hang of it, but if someone wanted a special order it was next to impossible to get it right! No pickles..cheese?! Ketchup!?!!? No ketchup?!?! The stress! lol Not to mention I was on a time crunch and being timed to see how fast I could do everything. Mass confusion and chaos.

Often times there'd be a long line and I'd be doing order after order then having to take food out to the tables and run back like a chicken with it's head cut off. Most of the time people were very rude and made me feel like two inches tall even when I was doing my best. Lots of the mistakes weren't even my fault, but the public loves to yell. Sometimes when things were slow, I had time to just stand there look around and see the creepy burger men staring at me and winking sometimes. Oh, I'm sorry! You must be mistaken…you think I WANT to be winked at by you? Oh, brother. I was in an oversized grey,ugly collard shirt. Nothing to look twice at, but the cooks apparently thought otherwise. One time a greasy man even put his hand on my booty cheek and I had to slap his grubby hands. "Excuse me, mister! This is definitely not meant for your grimey hands!" I don't play around. He must have mistaken me for someone else.

But the cooks did come in handy at the end of the day when I was told to go clean the bathrooms. One day I walked in to mop the boys restroom to realize that there was poop on the floor. Like someone had just squatted and left a big one just for me. I ran out screaming "NO WAY!!! Fire me!!!! FIRE ME!!!" and one of the cooks went and took care of it instead. All it took was me going back and putting on a big smile and saying "Hey there…I know I was rude before, but could you do me this LITTLE favor?!" and he went a runnin. There are things that I just cannot do. But I would clean the toilets every night and the entire place after closing. I remember getting the coke machines ready for the night was the hardest part. You have to pull off these nozels under each one and only a big muscle makes it possible. I hurt my hands many times. I never look at coke machines the same again.

Oh, and have I mentioned the fry machine??? If my orders had fries I had to go back and start frying them a lot of times. That thing is SCARY!!!! It is so hot and so many opportunities for my poor little hand to be burned. I'd hold my breath and sometimes close my eyes a little out of fear.

It seemed like I worked my tail off for so many hours and when my paycheck finally came in it was such a low amount that it made me gasp every time. All that work for THIS?! Wow.

At the end of the day after I did all my closing chores, it was finally time to go home. I'd rush to the shower because I felt so gross from my day and go to sleep to start the same day over again and again. It was one crazy summer. But I truly learned the value of an education and was able to see that I can work hard and do things that I never thought possible. We all have a lot of fight in us that we don't know about until it's time to use it.