flights

Of all the shit jobs I had through high school, somehow I avoided food service… almost. I did a two-week stint as a bus boy at a local country club. It was a second job (as in, I had another job during the day), and I quit after twice falling asleep at the wheel on the way there.

One night, they asked me to help out with an event in one of their big ballrooms. Dinner was done, and they asked me to man the ice cream station. Guests quickly formed a line, and as I scooped their choice of chocolate or vanilla, I mechanically asked each guest, “how was your meal?” Most of them mechanically answered, “it was fine” or “great” or whatever. One older woman considered my question and launched into a rant about how her steak was undercooked, how she sent it back to the kitchen, how it came back overcooked… blah blah blah.

She finished and glared at me. I stood there with my scoop poised above the ice cream, not knowing how to respond. After a tense silence, I said as brightly as I could, “do you want some ice cream?”

She turned her frown upside down. “Sure!”

This story is a long way of wondering whether the world would benefit from a whole lot of these.