My high school job in small town Indiana was…drum roll…Dairy Queen.
It was the “cool” spot. I worked with friends. We played wiffle ball out back. It was fun, at times. I wanted to drown myself in ice cream mix other times.
There’s no doubt you do learn a few things while working there. Here’s what they are…
That shit cleaned everything. It got smashed brownie batter off the floor, and could clean up a BP oil spill. Windex does it all. Get a paper cut? A little Windex would fix you right up.
Don’t you dare fuck this up. They want that medium dipped cone and a medium Coke. 95% off them want this. If you don’t give them the good, Gertrude is gonna let you hear it.
Imagine the Walking Dead, but with Little Leaguers wanting ice cream, not human flesh. The sight of a team walking to the door makes your heart stop.
Rookies follow the rules, and flip the blizzard. Veterans do not. Veterans know there is no need to prove our quality of work.
10 min to close, you’re like a cat. You notice every noise, every movement. That car pulling in with 3 min to close is your nightmare.
I used to make 12 cones at once with one hand and make 3 hot dogs and 4 Blizzards with the other all while refilling the mix and catching a fly.
Your knife skills got good, and fast. I could chop and peel a banana in 0.04 seconds flat, eyes closed.
Whiskey Riff is the most entertaining country site…ever.
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