The first time I walked out of the ice cream and chocolatier shop with iconic maroon awnings, I clapped my hand over my mouth in a frail attempt to restrain my excitement.
I had just landed my first job, a goal I’d been working towards for months. I had begun applying to multiple part-time jobs on Indeed for what had seemed like years. Each time I would attach my feeble resume and click the ominous button to apply, I hoped that an employer would contact me.
On the contrary, all but one ghosted me.
Therefore, I burst into the customer service scene at Kilwins Chocolate and Ice Cream Shop: Grand Rapids this past June with an extravagant amount of joy and gratitude, pleased to have accomplished another milestone that I will certainly remember for a long, long time.
On my first day working as an employee at Kilwins, it was a complete madhouse. Hordes of hungry customers were swarming the ice cream counter, looking to purchase a refreshing treat sure to revive them from the hot summer’s day. Walking into the shop, I had absolutely no idea where I was going to get trained or to acquire my uniform. Luckily, a fellow employee by the name of Betsy ushered me into the office and got me situated amid all the bustle waiting outside.
I put on my uniform—a bright blue collared shirt, khakis, an apron, and a tan, trademark Kilwins hat—took a deep breath and made my way to the counter, where Betsy was waiting with the worn training binder.
That night, I came home at 10:30 p.m., dizzy and a bit boggled from the long day. I had an odd mix of melted chocolate and Superman ice cream scars on my forearms, remnants of sticky caramel under my fingernails, and a thin line of sweat across my forehead from the hat.
Was I tired? Absolutely. Could I have fallen asleep at that exact moment? Of course.
Nevertheless, I loved it.
I loved how there would be a rush of customers at any given moment, then before you knew it, the store was empty, and I’d be reassigned to scrape ice cream tubs or sanitize the glass on the customer side. It reminded me of the familiar ebb and flow of ocean waves. One moment, the tide would be calm, gently lapping onto the shore, and the next, a gigantic wave would knock you on your knees when you least expect it.
Although the feeling was in an entirely different setting, hundreds of miles away from the nearest patch of salt water, it felt like home.
As the hours passed by, I began working in the chocolate zone, where I found my new favorite aspect of the job: restocking the chocolate and Made-In-Store case. I’d refill the trays with sweets of all sorts, from chocolate samoa cookies to striped chocolate caramel rods. The task is simple, yet it’s organized and always provides a great time to chat with my coworkers.
I guess that is the main reason why I adore restocking the chocolate cases: I get the chance to talk to others. Even though I am an introvert, I love learning about other people and getting the chance to know them better. I’ve always thought about how, out of eight billion people on Earth, I’m lucky enough to meet some of the few, complex people that fill my life with Technicolor.
I got that chance in Room 139 last year, and now, I have found a completely different place where I can call some select people my friends.
In the numerous shifts I’ve worked at Kilwins, I’ve dropped a vanilla milkshake, accidentally given a customer a fractured waffle cone, pulled a thread on my tired, blue shirt, slipped and fell on the recently mopped floor, and almost rang another customer up for $600 worth of dark chocolate orange peels when, in fact, they only had to pay seven dollars worth.
Through all of these mistakes, my gracious and humorous coworkers have assured me that mistakes are inevitable, and as long as I am trying my best to assist, that is all that is required. For that, I am truly grateful.
Now, three months and a few days after my first shift, I feel a brimming sense of emotion for the extremely chaotic but somehow also organized hours I’ve spent scooping ice cream and restocking famous Kilwins Tuttles in the chocolate case. Even though I am bound to slip up every now and again and return home with either a pounding headache or aching feet, I’m glad that I get to do it all with these people.
