Fordham University Common App Essay

“And there goes the garbage can,” I mumbled to myself, all too aware that I was tired, sticky, and still had to drive home. My departure was delayed another half hour because an incompetent truck driver ran over the Dairy Queen garbage can with his eighteen wheeler; how he did it is beyond me. Shortly after, I was delayed yet again (a regular occurrence) because a Millennial in a black tee shirt and jeans came in twenty minutes before closing, asking for a speciality drink. “Does anybody in here know how to make a frozen hot chocolate?” Here we go again, I thought, as I plastered a smile onto my face, “That would be me.” He expressed his gratitude by tossing two dollars into the tip jar. How could I forget the time when I looked out the glass door and spotted a couple in Safari hats hunched over the assortment of potted plants? What were they doing? We could not tell. As ridiculous as this sounds, I sent a coworker out to make sure they were not absconding with our flowers. Of course, I will never forget the moment when a group of traveling missionaries asked me to star in their “selfie.” Just a typical week at Dairy Queen.
And then, there are those people who come in, buy ice cream, and vent, which, in retrospect, seemed like the sole purpose all along. They have had a bad day: night shift at work, a handful of grandkids to look after, less than two hours of sleep, or simply a ten hour road trip with the whole family (including the in-laws). This is where my job as a Dairy Queen manager gets interesting. Besides blending blizzards and coating cones, my employees and I become an emotional support team — trust me, I have heard it all. People need to be listened to, and, when it is not busy, that is what we are here for. After commending them for their good deeds, congratulating them on losing seventy pounds, praising them for their patience, or tearing up while listening to a story about love and loss, my coworkers and I can only hope they will leave us with something in return.
The best part is, I am blessed with more than just spare change (well, a few regulars gift us with more than expected). I have become an ice cream psychologist. My love for humanity has stemmed through my experience at Dairy Queen. Learning how to engage with people has become a vital part of my life, whether I am at school, family gatherings, or work. Occasionally after school I have to make a trip to the local Walmart Superstore, ten minutes from the Dairy Queen. In a small town, all walks of life can be found at Walmart, which is also true about Dairy Queen. So statistically any DQ customer can be found at Walmart. The heartwarming part is that this is a mutual recognition; I am touched to be remembered and to converse with my customers outside of Dairy Queen. I have developed relationships and am seen as more than just a plain-faced employee — I am their ice cream psychologist.

