Tales from a Summer at an Amusement Park Food Line
- While attempting to close on my very first shift, I accidentally dropped an entire container of Italian dressing on the floor. Most of it went into my socks. It made for a very unpleasant ride home.
- The line I worked in served personal pan pizzas, club wraps, carved turkey sandwiches, salads (side salads as well as Mediterranean salads), very large pickles, and a variety of desserts made in store. We were allowed to alter recipes as people requested, within reason. One person requested a pizza without sauce. I respected her decision. A surprising number of people requested pizzas without cheese. I questioned theirs, especially since they got pepperoni.
- We offered a gluten-free pizza that took twenty minutes to cook (ordinary pizzas took five). There was one man I came to recognize who showed up at least every other week to order a gluten-free pizza. I very much hope that he had a season’s pass, or he was spending upwards of $70 a week for the privilege of waiting on a pizza.
- A child came in with his parents one day and they began asking about the ingredients in all our food. As my coworker began to answer, I stopped him and asked if this were an allergy question; when told yes, I asked them to wait and went to hunt down a manager, as company policy stated that only managers or higher could answer questions regarding allergies. My coworkers did not understand why I was wasting people’s time like this. I attempted to explain to them that I had no desire to kill a seven-year-old because I thought I knew better than the allergen manual. They continued to ridicule me. The mother made a point of thanking me in front of my supervisor when she arrived for apparently being the only person who was concerned about the well-being of her child, who was evidently allergic to everything.
- This was far from the only argument I had with my coworkers about allergen safety. I fear for the customers.
- A man came into my line one afternoon, looked at me, looked at the salads, looked at me, looked at the salads again, looked at me, pointed directly at the salads, and said, “You sell salads?” I expended every ounce of willpower I had left not to respond, “No, sir, those are small ornamental shrubbery.”
- Victoria Justice came to give a concert at our park one afternoon. I have never heard any of her music, but between the fact that she was apparently an elitist bully to the ride attendants (and other guests) when she was enjoying her day at the park and the fact that the park was sold out that day with mostly girls under the age of twelve, all of whom wanted pizza for lunch, I have decided that I hate her.
- A couple came through my line. We recognized each other. They were parishioners at the church I had worked for prior to the amusement park. I left the church because I was fired in a very underhanded and unprofessional manner. I cheerfully told them to say hello to everybody for me. They left very quickly.
- Part of our job was to engage any guests waiting in line in conversation, especially the children. I was exceptionally good at this part of my job. My coworkers were either in awe or jealous.
- The number of people who did not understand that I did not have their special orders ready before they thought to order them was mind-boggling.
- A toddler came into my line and began chattering with me. This would not have been unusual, except that his parents were nowhere in sight, nor was any other adult, as they were all in the other room watching the show. I leaned as far over the counter as I could to keep the little guy talking and in sight until an adult came to take responsibility for him. To this day, I sincerely hope that the adult who came for him was actually his mother.
- While attempting to close down our second line, I used one of the four doors to the small refrigerator cases to support myself as I pushed myself from a squatting position to a standing one. I ripped the door off its top hinge.
- My coworker made a joke one night about something she would like to do. I explained how it would be possible. Her eyes filled with fear. I had to explain that I am a writer and had done research for a mystery novel and that I have not, in fact, ever cut someone’s feet off at the ankles with a cake knife.
- I became somewhat well-known among my coworkers for knowing all the words to the songs in the shows that went on in the dining area while we were cooking/serving. Strangely enough, my coworkers were less confused as to how I, a 23-year-old, knew ‘80s pop songs than they were as to how I, a 23-year-old, knew German drinking songs.
- Three days before the end of the summer, having been friends with one particular colleague for nearly five months, I had to pull out my ID to prove to her that I was in my twenties and not, in fact, nineteen.
REQUEST: “Could you do either 18 or 22 pls. And if I can ask for Minghao pls or not whatever you decide c:” + “For the aus that we never asked for. Number 22 please, because that situation’s extremely embarrassing but cute 😂”
#22: “we go on the same train every day and i complain about how hot you are to my friend thinking that you don’t speak english except once you were like ‘honestly you’re pretty damn fine yourself’ oh my fucking GO D” au
“Dude. Dude dude!”
“WHAT!” your friend roared, pulling her arm away. You didn’t
realize you had been shaking her shoulder this whole time. You pointedly
excitedly into the train.
“Look! It’s him!”
You rolled your eyes. “The same guy I’ve been telling you
about! Train boy! The really hot one!”
Her gaze followed yours into the train and you both watched
as the guy put on his headphones, scrolling through songs on his phone. In
those few seconds before the doors opened, you noticed everything about him.
His side-swept brown hair. The doe-like eyes. His casual
sitting posture; leaned back and legs opened wide. There was a slight smirk on
The doors opened and you hurried inside, dragging your friend
to stand right in front of him.
“Dude what are you doing?” your friend scolded. “I know you –
you’re going to be fangirling over him the whole ride. Why are we standing
You noticed she had switched to speaking in Mandarin. “You
don’t have to do that you know. He’s wearing headphones.”
“So that means we can speak about him freely and he won’t
hear us, duh.”
In front of you the boy laughed at something on his phone.
You liked the way he laughed; it was more like a giggle and he would throw his
head back happily each time. It made you smile yourself.
“Yah, stop looking at him like that,” your friend snapped
her fingers in front you. “That’s creepy!”
“I can’t help it, he’s so cute.”
“Would you look at his arms! Look at those veins. Do you
think he works out?”
She shrugged. “I don’t
know maybe he breaks.”
“Like break dance?” you gasped. “That’s so cool! That would
explain why he’s always in those dance clothes. He’s always sweaty in on
Tuesdays, Thursday and Saturdays.”
“You are a stalker.”
Your eyes flit back to the boy. Today he had on a little
silver earring on his right ear – usually he wore earrings on both but you
figured he looked better with just the one. “Dude he looks so badass today.”
“Look at the earring! He looks so good like that holy crap.” Almost like he heard you, the boy
touched his ear. “He usually wears both but he looks really good with just one.
It makes him look like a gang leader.”
“Again, you’re a creep.”
“Is it weird that I want to run my hand through his hair?”
“SHIT HE’S POUTING! DON’T DO THAT! THAT’S TOO CUTE!”
“Y/N shut up!” your friend clamped her hand over your mouth.
“You were squealing. Squealing!”
“I can’t help it he’s so cute.”
“People are STARING!”
“Why are they staring at me? They should stare at this
beautiful that’s right in front of me.”
Admittedly your fangirling today was really bad, especially
since you didn’t have to struggle to use Mandarin so he wouldn’t understand
what you were saying. On other days you would usually just throw some
compliments about how hot he was – he was really
hot – but right now, the boy in front of you was giving you too many
reasons to appreciate his beauty.
He kept pushing his hair back with his hands and grinning
right on cue. And that little dimple over his lip kept making an appearance…
As the train travelled on, more people started leaving than
entering. You got a seat directly opposite the boy right after your friend left
and spent the rest of your time shooting subtle looks his way. Since you lived
at the very end of the line the train was practically empty a few stations
before your stop.
You waited for the boy to get off: His station was five
stops before yours. The train doors opened and closed but he didn’t leave.
You looked up curiously.
…And found him staring back at you.
Your eyes widened.
There was a half-smirk on his lips and a playful glint in his
eyes. He stood up and took off his headphones, crossing the width of the train
and sitting down in the empty spot next to you. His gaze didn’t leave yours.
“Nǐ jīntiān hǎo ma? How
are you today?”
You blushed furiously. “Wǒ
hěn hǎo, xièxiè nǐ.”
“Do you know what these are?” he asked, continuing to speak
in Mandarin. He pointed to his headphones.
“Do you know what they’re good for?”
“Listening to music?”
“Ah,” he held up a finger, grinning devilishly. “You’re half-right.
But they’re especially good for pretending
to listen to music.”
Your blush deepened. “What exactly are you saying here?”
“I think you know exactly what I’m saying.” He leaned
forward, eyes dancing. You refused to meet his gaze, choosing instead to focus
on the up-turned curve of his lips.
He moved back, crossing his arms casually.
“You probably don’t know this – or do you? – but I’m a student
here from China. Chinese national through and through.” He turned back to you. “In
other words, you need to brush up on your pronunciation my friend or you’ll
never be understood by a native.”
“Don’t wanna be understood by a native,” you pouted.
“You’re cute when you pout.”
“Don’t say that!”
“If I recall, you’re the one who said that, about me.” He was grinning widely.
“You’re enjoying this!”
“Of course! I can’t help it that you look really cute today.”
“Stop what?” he asked innocently.
“You know what.”
“This!” you waved your arms wildly. He laughed, copying your
actions. “What? What is this?”
“This teasing! You’re
flirting! I can tell; you’re definitely flirting.”
“You like it.”
“No, I don’t!”
“You do. You’re so red,” he reached out and pinched your
cheek. “Look, your ears are turning red!”
“Oh my god stop it!”
“Ahhh you’re really cute!” he dodged as you tried to swipe
him. “I don’t know why I didn’t do this earlier. You’re like a little puppy!”
“You weren’t actually laughing at your phone just now, were
you? You were laughing at me freaking out
“Pretty much,” he smirked.
You groaned, embarrassed. You tried to hide your face in
your hands but he wouldn’t let you. He kept using your hair to tickle your ears
so you would have to look up and stop him, then he’d be pinching your cheeks
again. He wouldn’t stop saying how cute you were.
“What even is your name!” you complained.
He chuckled. “Minghao. And yours?”
He grinned, throwing his arm over your shoulder. “Y/N I
think this is the start of a very beautiful friendship.”
You groaned. “This sucks. I didn’t know you were this annoying.
I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
“And deny me of your adorable thoughts? Never!”
“I can’t believe I said all those things! And you could hear
and understand them! This whole time!”
“They made my day.”
“Hoo-ray,” you said miserably.
The train finally pulled into your stop; the last station. It
had been the longest three-station ride of your life.
“Y/N, I think to commemorate the start of this friendship,
you should treat me to some food.”
“Are you serious?”
“My favourite is anything that reminds me of home.”
He beamed down at you. “We have a long time ahead of us Y/N.
Let’s get to it.”
Your brother James finding out about you and Sirius
Who doesn't love a bit of cheese?
so beautiful in the morning.” Sirius said, looking down at you. You hid your
face in your hands, knowing that your hair was wild and your face was spotty
without the usual make up you wore.
Sirius. You don’t have to try and make me feel better.” you replied, blushing.
The two of
you had snuck down to the common room in the early hours of the morning, and
had spent the night cuddling, laughing and snuggling with each other, until
you’d realised with a start that it was morning. You didn’t know where the
night had gone.
tugged at your hands, laughing as you squirmed. He started tickling you, trying
to get you to drop your hold as you giggled hysterically, but after a while he
gave up, seeing that your clamped arms weren’t going to budge. “(Y/N), I’m serious.” he complained, and finally you
dropped your hands, looking up at him shyly.
were so soft as he reached down to cup your cheek, stroking your blotchy skin
with his thumb. “This,” he whispered,
pressing a soft kiss to your cheek that left you breathless, “is beautiful. I
don’t know what you’re afraid of.”
soft kisses to your head, your nose, your chin, your neck, your shoulder and
then worked his way back up to your lips. As his soft lips met yours, you
molded against his chest, melting into his body as his kisses took you away to
a faraway land…
“Is that the last box?” I asked, watching as Stiles plopped it down, bending over with his hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath.
“Yeah,” he huffed. “God, woman, how much Christmas crap do you need?” I dismissed him with an eye roll, beginning to open all the totes so I could see which decorations were in what.
“Oh, hush. Let’s see….here are some lights….” I began to pull things from the boxes, organizing them into categories of what types of decorations they were and where they would go.
Within a few hours, our apartment looked like a winter wonder land. Stiles had hung lights up in the windows, a decorated any shelf and flat surface I could find with figures and the like, there was tinsel dangling from the leaves of the plants, and the Christmas themed kitchen items were all out and ready to be used. The only thing left to do was the tree.
“Stiles,” I giggled, finding myself trapped in a sea of boxes, totes, newspaper, and leftover decorations. “I think I’m trapped.” Maybe he was right. I did have a lot of crap.
“Here, give me your hand. Now step up on the couch.” I did as he instructed, jumping into his arms with a squeal when he nodded. We laughed, kissing each other gently.
“Time for the tree!” I announced, starting to clean up everything surrounding it.
“Whoa, hold on,” he chuckled. “I’m starving. How about I order a pizza, we sit and watch some tv while we eat, then we hit the tree. Sound good?”
“I suppose we could take a break.” My stomach growled as if on cue, making me raise a brow as I looked down at it. “Pizza it is.”
“No, you can’t put that ornament there!” I laughed, grabbing Stiles’ wrist as he fought me playfully to hook it on the branch.
“Why not?” We were both smiling and laughing as we worked, teasing each other here and there.
“Because there’s already a green one right here!” I gently lifted it with one of my free fingers, showing him and earning a grunt of acknowledgement. “Here’s a good place.”
“There,” he declared, placing the small bulb on the branch. “You think that’s good?”
“I think it’s perfect,” I whispered, leaning into Stiles’ side. “Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”
“Sure, the Christmas tree looks beautiful, but not half as beautiful as you.”
“You’re a cheese ball,” I sighed, hugging his middle. Stiles placed a kiss to the top of my head before resting his cheek against my temple.
“But I’m your cheese ball.”
“That’s true,” I replied. “And I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”