Ice Cubes & Corks: Amusing Amusement Park Stories, Part I

I was sixteen years old at the time and had just finished my first year of high school. Although I had worked for my dad’s company on occasion, this was my first real job. My best friend Bart and I both ended up working at this large amusement park north of the city. He worked games of chance, while I drew the glamorous task of sloping food onto plates. Although we shared a car, we often worked different shifts. This meant at times we would spend the entire day at the park working and waiting for the other to finish. Long days, but at that age with free access to rides, attractions and food it was a great way to spend a summer.

It was not long before I was introduced to the realities of employment. I actually had two jobs. Most days I worked on the line plating food, occasionally I worked the lemonade stand. It was during one such shift I received an involuntary three day vacation for following direct orders.

It all started innocently enough. I was scheduled for a morning shift, while Bart did not start until latter that day. This meant he would spend the morning wandering the park, while I would do the same in the evening. I arrived at work and was informed I was to man the lemonade stand. This was only my second or third shift pouring lemonade. My first shift had been a few weeks prior, and as part on my training I was shown, by a manager, how to mix the lemonade and fruit punches. That training included tasting the refreshments to make sure I had mixed them properly. I set about the task of setting up shop and had just finished mixing the first batch of lemonade. As instructed I tasted the lemonade to get the recipe correct. Just as I was removing the paper cup from my mouth a manager walked in (not the same manager who trained me).

Manager, “What are you doing?”

Barman, thinking the answer should be self evident, “Tasting the lemonade.”

Manager, “Why would you do that?”

Barman, confused, “Mark told me I needed to check the beverages once they were mixed.”

“We don’t to that. You were helping yourself to a drink.”

At this point I am getting somewhat upset. I had never experienced anything like this. I was just tying to do my job. “No. I was only doing what Mark told me.”

“Mark never told you that, you’re lying and I caught you steeling. Come with me.”

“What! I was not steeling. Ask Mark.”

The manager was not interested in what I had to say, nor was he interesting in what Mark might have to say. He hauled me off to the office and informed me I was being suspended for three days, for steeling. To say I was in shock would be an understatement. To make matters worse I had to wait all day for Bart to finish his shift. I decided to go and tell him what happened. Keep in mind this was long before everyone had cell phones, and texting was not even a pipe dream yet. This meant I had to walk the park and hope I ran into Bart. This was slowly turning into one of the worse days of my young life. The temperature was sweltering, and I could find Bart nowhere. I finally gave up when I realized it was almost time for him to start work. I decided I would give him some time to get settled in and then I would go and tell him about the days events.

Bart was visibly surprised to see me as our shifts were to overlap and I should have been working. I explained what had happened and he was as dismayed as I was. We talked for a short while and eventually I left him to finish his shift. As was our routine I wandered over to Bart’s booth about half an hour before he was scheduled to finish. Strangely, Bart was nowhere to be found. Confused, I decided to walk over to the staff area and see if he was getting changed. Sure enough, there was Bart, changed and ready to go. I could tell he was not happy and we walked out of the park as fast as we could without saying a word. Once in the car and on the road back home Bart asked me for a cigarette. I had just started to smoke that year. A family friend that was a few years older and went to the same high school took me under his wing. As a freshman in high school, having an upperclassman as a friend saved me from a lot of the usual hazing one experiences in grade nine.

One of the unexpected consequences of running with the older kids was that I was expected to not be a stupid freshman. If I wanted to be a part of the group I would need to act like I belonged. They all smoked and in an effort to be accepted I picked up the habit. A habit I was able to kick 16 years latter. Isn’t peer pressure great?

By the summer my habit was well established, but as far as I knew Bart rarely smoked. When he asked for a cigarette on the way home I knew something was bothering him. We both lit up, taking a few moments to enjoy the sweet taste of tobacco and allowing the blue smoke to drift out the open windows. Bart cranked to radio, a clear indication he was not in the mood for conversation. We cruised down the highway in content silence enjoying the breeze from the open windows, the music and the smoke. I could feel the tension of the day slowly leaving me.

Bart and I finished our smokes and he turned down the radio, “Looks like we both have a mini vacation.”

Barman, “What?”

Bart, “They suspended me as well.”

“What for?”

Bart, “They accused me of steeling as well.”

Turns out Bart had a far worse experience that I did. Apparently, a number of people working the game stands had been skimming from the days take. For some reason neither of us could ever figure out Bart was accused of skimming. Towards the end of his shift he was approached by park security and was asked to follow them. Bart was taken to the security office, where they asked him about his shift, and explained that theft was becoming an issue. Bart is a very honest and trustworthy person and it never occurred to him that he was under suspicion. That changed when they asked him to hand over his cash from the day. They counted the cash and claimed it was short. There was in fact no way to know if Bart was short or not, there was no method for recording the days sales, so it would be impossible to determine how much cash Bart actually owed. Regardless they accused him of steeling and asked him to empty his pockets. I had Bart’s wallet at the time; this was something we had agreed upon shortly after starting work at the park. We were both uncomfortable leaving valuables in our lockers and if you worked a games booth you were not allowed to have your wallet in your possession while on shift.

As a result Bart’s pockets were empty. Security was not satisfied, they were convinced Bart had been steeling. They even accused him of giving the stolen cash to me. They said they were aware of the fact I had been suspended for theft and accused us of working together to steal from the park. They claimed to have been watching us both for some time and had even searched our lockers. I am not into conspiracy theories but it was starting to look like I was set up and Bart was being falsely accused of theft on a significant scale. Convinced of his guilt the guards performed a strip search. Bart was understandable upset.

Welcome to the working world. Welcome to picking on the wrong people. Perhaps Bart and I should have used the “Do you know who I am” line. A short time latter justice was served.

Bart and I got our jobs through my father. One of my dad’s best friends was in the publishing business and published all the promotional material for the concert hall at the park. It was through that connection we found ourselves employed that summer. Oh and did I mention my father is a lawyer? Needless to say I told my father of the days events and he was furious. He threatened to take all kinds of action and at that moment I thought he might take the park down through legal action. I never did find out exactly what happened. All I know is that when we came back to work after serving our suspensions there were a few notable changes. Both managers involved in my suspension were no longer there, someone said they had been transferred to another part of the park. I never saw either of them again. As for the security guards, neither Bart nor I saw either of them the rest of the summer. Bart he was never again accused of steeling and we both received letters of apology with out next paychecks.