26 Signs You Worked At Abbott's Frozen Custard

Customer: "Can I get a twist?"

Employee: "We don't have twists."

Customer: "Yes you do. Last time I came here I got a twist."

Employee: "We've never had twists. It's a scoop of half and half."

Customer: "So all you have is hard ice cream?"

Employee: "No, it's soft. It's frozen custard, not ice cream."

Customer: "Oh. What's the difference?"

*Imagines stabbing customer multiple times with the sharp end of the spoons.*

Abbott's Frozen Custard is a staple in Rochester, NY, and it has earned its every praise. It's a perfect first job for any 14-20 year old and I loved every second of the six summers I spent working there. There's multiple locations, but you only really know what it's like when you've worked at the original Abbott's Frozen Custard, right at Charlotte Beach. Here's 26 signs you worked at Abbott's.

1. 2-10 is music to your ears.

It's like working a "double" (remember when 8 hours of work was a double? HA) without having to close. You don't get trapped into staying far too long after closing cleaning and serving customers who knock on closed windows, and you make bangin' tips.

2. Khakis are your least favorite pants and your most worn.

Shorts, capris, pants, it doesn't matter. They all suck and they're all stained with bleach, fudge, and custard.

3. All of your t-shirts are stained.

I'm talking fudge, custard, and bleach here people. It's not a pretty combo.

4. You've worried about developing carpal tunnel at an unnaturally early age.

So much scooping.

5. It's a miracle you're not fat.

I think the number of steps I took was directly correlated with how many spoonfulls I snuck each shift (sorry Kari/Crystal/Alicia).

6. Your tips have been stolen.

More than once.

7. Every piece of money you've touched comes from questionable sources.

No, it's not a strip joint, but with all the tittie twenties I've seen, it might as well be.

8. You have every ingredient in every sundae, flavor, and novelty item memorized (and their prices).

I'm gunna be this girl: When I was your age, a kiddie was $1.70. It's now $3.25. (What gives boss, seriously?)

9. "We don't do kiddie sundaes. That's Bill Gray's."

Closely followed by and/or related to:

10. "No, we don't accept Bill Gray's coupons."

Sometimes followed up with a disgruntled senior arguing that their double isn't large enough (it's a single and a kiddie. If you want a triple, go hit up an actual Bill Gray's).

11. Even though you know what re-run is (and looks like), you'd still eat the whole bin of frozen custard if you could.

It's just so damn good.

12. You've dropped an expletive (or two) the second you dumped almonds into the wrong bin and end up with no plain chocolate and two chocolate almonds.

Is there time to save it? Grab a f*cking scoop before it's too late!

13. Sundae bar is the worst.

No tips, mass confusion, and a constantly cluttered work space.

14. You've been tipped pennies, or nothing at all, for orders totaling over $100 that you completed in less than five minutes without making customers repeat themselves.

Still bitter about it.

15. The Shit Bucket.

Enough said.

16. The moment you're minding your business the next day and then you realize you forgot to empty The Shit Bucket.

I can't. Really. It's too horrible to rehash.

17. You've slipped on the floor at the end of the night squeegee-ing while the back ends hose it down.

And managed barely to catch yourself or surf just far enough to grab something.

18. You've hated every second you've had to use a *JUST* washed scoop to go in the walk-in cooler, after the bins have already been pulled, and make a cone for the asswipe who came knocking when the window was closed.

Hope that $2.75 was worth it.

19. The last register on the fifth window.

It's every teenage girl's nightmare. Unless you're freakishly tall, you're standing on your tip toes for the entirety of the shift. And manually opening the register is a bitch.

20. At least one customer has told you, "...if I were twenty years younger!"

Stop. I'm going to just stop you there sir. You're seventy-five. Or married. Or both.

21. There's no such thing as panic when you work at Abbott's.

Sunny, 75 degrees, six PM on a Friday night? Five lines packed from the window to the edge of the street, and probably some overflow near the flowerbeds. You got this.

22. You probably haven't been there in years and still remember every second of it.

The smallest thing can set off an avalanche of memories.

23. You're one of the only people you know that can count change correctly, without relying on a computer to tell you how much the customer is owed.

Small blessings. Great life skill.

24. Someone has caught you lying about showering because you've got fudge/custard in/on your hair, arms, or legs.

Seriously, you really might have showered, but sometimes you just miss stuff.

25. Working Ferry shifts:

Just sucks. The bins are smaller, the machine is bitchier, and the customers are grade A assholes who didn't "feel like waiting in line," even thought that's exactly what they just did for twenty minutes. And they are going to spend valuable minutes of your life bitching about it.

26. Dance parties.

You've had at least one with all of your co-workers.

I truly did love every second I spent in that place. If I hadn't outgrown it, I'd probably still be there. I'm sure you would too.