The Amazement Park

(Update: Congratulations to Happy Girl @ Being Happy for winning my Un-birthday Kiva Giveaway, and to Lauri @ Living to Die Well for being first runner-up! Details to follow)

There are reasons I never took my kids to an amusement park.

After leaving for my freshman year of college, I never really went home. I spent three out of the four summers during my college years working at an amusement park located on Lake Erie in Ohio. One summer I stayed near campus and worked at a McDonald’s. It was McDonald’s, and my experience there was exactly identical to that of anyone else who ever worked at any other McDonald’s, just as the burgers sold at one restaurant were exactly identical to every other one sold nationwide. The only notable memory of that experience was being introduced to a new menu item being added that summer—the chicken nugget. I thought they were disgusting and figured they would never catch on. My experience of working at McDonald’s was merely something to be endured and not worthy of its own blog post.

The amusement park recruited heavily for its seasonal jobs among college students in Ohio, Michigan, and Pennsylvania. Working there seemed an ideal arrangement. The park offered on-site housing, beach access, uniforms, a paycheck, and unlimited admission to the Midwest’s finest amusements

 I was hired to work in the traffic department, which meant I stood for eight hours a day in a blistering hot parking lot, or pouring rain, trying desperately not to get hit by a car. Other duties included parking, and inhaling fumes of, tour buses; collecting parking tolls and driving the tram which traveled between the parking lot and the park’s main entrance. If I tried hard enough I could probably recite word-for-word the tram spiel I was required to give while shuttling customers through the parking lot. But nobody wanted to hear it back then so I’m sure nobody reading this does either.

Most days I worked a split shift which meant I directed traffic for four hours in the mornings as enthusiastic customers arrived for a fun-filled day of adventure, and I returned for four hours in the evening to direct cars exiting the lots. Daily my co-workers and I yelled, “Watch your doors!” as enthusiastic customers flung theirs open into oncoming cars. Daily I saw customers limp back to the parking lot, sunburnt and exhausted, having spent too many hours standing in long lines and too much money on greasy food and cheesy amusements. At the end of each day, customers seemed considerably less enthusiastic.

Those of us in the traffic department wore orange and yellow jumpsuits, orange visors, white gloves, and brown sneakers with ankle-cut socks. We looked a little like ducks. Because of the many hours spent standing in the sun I always had a great tan at the end of my amusement park summers, except for the abnormal-looking white hands and feet which were covered by the socks and gloves. After baking my skin for four hours during each morning’s shift, I naturally went to the beach to bake my skin some more. I’m beginning to suspect that the damage I did to my skin those summers could keep Mary Kay’s skin-care line in business for years to come.

Each of us was issued a whistle and flashlight for directing traffic at night. On paper, I’m sure it sounded like a good idea to stick a bunch of college students in a parking lot at minimum wage to manage traffic for the park. Few of us really knew what we were doing. I know for sure I caused at least one accident when a driver couldn’t interpret my flashlight movement and hand gestures. And, more often than one might suspect, customers who had enjoyed a few too many beers in the park seemed to think it would be great sport to try to plow down a college kid who was dressed like a duck and standing in a parking lot.

Traffic was light on days when there were thunderstorms in the forecast. Many of the rides had to be shut down when there was danger of lightning strikes. With little traffic to direct, many times I got pulled out of the parking lot after a storm to test-ride the roller coasters. I’m guessing the insurance liability was greater if brakes failed while paying customers were riding a coaster than if a load of employees plummeted to their deaths. When I first started working at the park, I was terrified of riding what was then billed as “the world’s largest racing coaster.” After riding it a few times, not knowing whether or not the brakes would work, the experience became a huge yawn.

Most of the glitter and appeal of the amusements wore off quickly. I flashed my employee badge at the park’s entrance merely to walk through on my way to the parking lot, blocking out most of the sights and sounds of the attractions. The one sense I couldn’t block was that of smell. To this day, when I think about amusement parks, I immediately think of the smell of rotting garbage.

I earned very little during my summers at the amusement park. Housing expenses were deducted from my paycheck, and I also had to pay for food. I think I survived on Tab, apples, yogurt, cereal, and fruit roll-ups. In addition to being very tan, I was also very thin each year when I returned to school. I was, however, able to save some money toward my college expenses. Each week I mailed my paycheck home to my parents to deposit into my bank account, back in the day before online banking existed.

After my first summer at the park, I swore I would never return. I thought the work was brutal, and that I was poorly used and severely underpaid. The truth was, I missed being home for the summer, imagining my friends had all returned from college to resume the childhoods we had once enjoyed together. In reality, going home was never quite the same. The work I did in each of my summer jobs was hard, and quirky, and strange sometimes.  I shake my head thinking about some of my experiences, but they provided some great stories. And all the while I thought I was earning money toward paying for college, I realize I was learning about how the world works and how to manage life in it.

All of it was education.

I will be posting the name of the winner to my Unbirthday Kiva giveaway this afternoon, This is the final post in my series about summer jobs. Links to other posts:

• Summertime--And the Living is Brutal
• A Hot, Hairy Mess
• Start Spreading the News