Image via Wikimedia
The best job I ever had was my 5 years (with breaks for college) at Dairy Queen. I have truly grown to appreciate it in my adult years. There is definitely an underground community (read:cult) of former Dairy Queen employees. We look at each other with a certain level of respect that comes with being able to make a perfect five-point twirl at the top of double-rounded ice milk in a cone.
We were all girls at our DQ, save for the manager, generally drunk owner, and one creepynerdy-esque dude in his early 20s that I think I even tried to date once for lack of Y chromosomes in my life. I think I took him to a Billy Graham concert. Yes. An adolescent-Melanie-fail on oh, so many levels. That kid could MOP the fuck out of linoleum floors though, I'll give him that.
Anyway. At age 15, most of my REAL sex ed came from the girls at Dairy Queen. I learned that masturbation is in fact, not going to send you to hell. That some boys could tear panties off with their TEETH. And that you can cut a hole in the crotch of your tights in a pinch if you are getting oral sex in your boyfriend's parents' basement.
The dress code was easy. We wore red t-shirts and black jean shorts (and a head-to-toe layer of splattered fruit syrup). Occasionally we dressed it up with our official DQ red polo. The year that they changed the rules and told us we had to wear closed-toed shoes, we almost lost it. For fun I created an updated Dairy Queen Uniform (see below).
And the ice cream (technically ice milk). It was dispensed at my whim. There were buckets full of candy for blizzards, always within 5 feet. You could turn around and pump hot fudge into your mouth. It was sweet, cavity-inducing, caloric-laden heaven.
God I miss it. They were perfect summers. The cute football-player-boys from the condo development across the street would stop by on their way home from the gym, sweaty and craving some sugar. I think it was the only time I ever got access to the popular dudes.
I'm craving a peanut butter cup blizzard, gossip, flirting, and sunshine. I wonder if I could pick up a shift in Chicago this season.
Updated Dairy Queen Gear by rileycoyote
More DQ:
Blizzard of the Month postings on the Official Dairy Queen Blog.
Dairy Queen on Twitter
"Dairy Queen Employees Make the World Go Round" Facebook group
There are so many things right about this post...my sister and brother-in-law met in high school while working at Dairy Queen. Ah, love. The best part about being a sister of someone that worked there...she brought home cups filled with the little cookie dough chunks for me. Oh man, how did I not gain 500 lbs.???
ReplyDeleteAnd I STILL use Dr. Pepper Lip Smackers...yes, I cannot let that part of high school go...
There seems to be a dearth of DQs in Chicago. A shame, indeed.
ReplyDeleteOnce, after I'd spent three hours getting a tattoo, my friend Pat took me to the Dairy Queen by the Music Box. I sat in the DQ booth, visibly shaking from the endorphins and happily scooping away at a Blizzard.
i didn't get hired at DQ because i failed the "cone test," but i was the best sandwich artist ever.
ReplyDelete