Think before you order your food | Our Corner

During that fateful summer after graduating college, before locking down my career path, I found myself strapped for cash as friends more fortunate than I wanted to go out and celebrate their newfound status in society. So to keep up with the Joneses, I did what any reasonable post-college graduate would do. I went back to my pre-college food vending job.

During that fateful summer after graduating college, before locking down my career path, I found myself strapped for cash as friends more fortunate than I wanted to go out and celebrate their newfound status in society.

So to keep up with the Joneses, I did what any reasonable post-college graduate would do. I went back to my pre-college food vending job.

I dug down deep and worked the trenches at the Capitol Lake Fair in Olympia, serving roasted corn to thousands of hot and sweaty fair-goers, who, apparently, have ravenous appetites for butter-slathered zea mays.

Not that I blame them – if I was shipwrecked on an island where only corn grows, and my ship was delivering an unlimited supply of cayenne pepper, garlic powder and Johnny’s Seasoning Salt, I would be a very happy Chuck Noland.

And yes, on long summer days I would draw faces on my new starchy friends.

I didn’t realize how soft and squishy my college life had let me become until I stepped back into that yellow and green booth.

I worked a 12 hour shift my first day and a 16 hour shift the second.

In front of me, I faced hot asphalt and clear blue skies that allowed the sun to constantly assault my sensitive ginger skin.

And behind me, I’ve got a roaring corn roaster that the devil himself would think twice about sticking his hands in to grab a delicious cob.

So maybe it was the heat, or the blisters running the length of my foot or the lack of sleep I had during this venture back into the blue collar world, but I found myself barely holding back the urge to enact a “mandatory tipping fee” every time a customer deviated from proper food vendor etiquette.

So if you enjoy those large fairs with rides that spin so fast they make you sick, drinks so large they make you sick, and where you can eat as much corn as your want until you make yourself sick… please consider these tips when you order your food.

1) Look at the stand you’re ordering food from. This seems like a no-brainer, but if I had a dollar for every time someone stood underneath the awning of the booth that advertises our roasted corn in green letters as large as my forearm and ask me if this is where everyone is getting their corn, I’d never need to shuck another cob again.

2) Know what you want. If it’s a slow day, please come ask us what an Arnold Palmer is and what sort of free samples we have of those yummy crunchy cinnamon glazed nuts we carry. It’s a great way to break out the monotony and I get to perform my well-rehearsed spiels about the food we serve. But if it’s a busy day and you are at the front of a line 20 people deep, please tell us what the beast in your stomach is craving and step to the side.

3) Give us your order all at once. Don’t parse out your order in three or four separate sentences, because it makes it hard for us to keep a running total of corn and drinks to serve.

4) Have your money ready and out of your wallet. You’re about to partake in one of life’s greatest, albeit messiest, treats. Even if you pay with a $100 bill, just have it out in your hand and put your change in your pocket so you can grab hold of that delicious corn dripping with butter instead of trying to juggle your fancy purse or leather wallet with your large lemonade and weapon of buttery destruction.

5) Don’t fold your bills. This may be the cardinal sin of vendor shoppers, even worse than not having your money ready. Every time I have to un-fold or un-wad a mess of one dollar bills, I want to club you with the corn that should rightfully be used as nourishment, not a tool for corporeal punishment.

6) Don’t ask for special treatment. I can’t roast the corn differently, shave the corn into a cup or MacGyver some sort of holding instrument for your food when I have a line of famished corn-ivores behind you. And if I do help you, because your kids are extra cute or you obviously need the help, keep us happy by putting your change into the tip jar. A dollar or two goes a long way in making sure everyone who needs special treatment receives it.

7) Be polite. Being a customer doesn’t mean you’re entitled to any sort of service or product, and I’ll gladly refuse to serve you if you bark orders at me or my coworkers. The corn will keep roasting, no matter who you are.

8) Don’t ask us where another food vendor is. Just don’t.

9) Don’t ask us if what we serve is organic. Looking for organic food at a street fair is like trying to find common sense in a Donald Trump speech. It’s not going to be there and at the end of the day, you’re going to be swallowing a lot of crap anyways.

10) Don’t complain about our prices. We didn’t set them and we can’t change them. If you don’t want to pay, that’s fine – there are literally hundreds of other people who will.

Working any sort of food vending job is hard. It’s intense work with long hours and little pay, so please, when you’re enjoying your next street fair, keep these tips in mind, and we will gladly reciprocate your kindness and genteel manner with the most delicious piping hot buttered up corn on the cob we can.