While attending college, I have always found myself working in the college cafe. No matter where I attend school, the kitchen always feels safe and well known. However, there has always been this uneasy feeling when it comes to seeing people you know while working. I have also worked in the food service industry as a waitress for about five years now, and the feeling is still the same. You have two different personalities; one while working and one who is the class you or friend you.

Overall, there is one time when this difference is most apparent: the last ten minutes of operation. During this prime time, you will without a doubt have a mini-rush of five orders that will order whatever the last thing you cleaned was. You must smile as they take their ticket and move the table in the back, where you have also already cleaned. This is the life of the food service worker. For some reason, people are insanely happy when they come in right before a place has closed. For this reason, it is the most loathed time period.

For someone who is also a college student, this process changes slightly. I also have to see these same people in my classes. When I come into my classroom the morning after a long shift, there is a 95 percent chance that the group of students who came in right before we closed are also in my class. They are the first to ask why I look so tired. It is hard to tell at that point if they literally don't see worker me and student me as the same person, or if they were to absorb in their own life to be able to tell who was working in general. Both options are rather unsettling.

However, there are certain (rare) moments that restore my faith in humanity.

At one point last week, my crew and I were about twenty minutes out until close. We had everything washed and cleaned in the back, and were in the process of cleaning the dining room. We were just waiting. Then a small group of males walked in from chapter, and we were put on alert. The boys were from a frat who had just gotten out of chapter. If this small group came in, we were prepared for the entire chapter to walk through the doors at any moment. I approached the registrar and smiled, looking out the door for the large group to come running in. But that never happened.

Instead, a small group of three came up to me and before telling me what they wanted, or giving me a half-heart "hello," they apologized for coming in so late. I was taken aback. These gentlemen were apologizing for coming in "so late" when we still had another ten minutes before we were even in the "prime time." I chuckled and said they had nothing to worry about. We had a genuine conversation and then they walked off to the back table waiting for us to call their numbers.

They picked up small pieces of trash along their way and sat in the corner trying to not get in way of our other worker, who was cleaning off the other side of dinning room. My co-workers and I were impressed, because that doesn't happen. As I mentioned above, even people I know treat me like some stranger when I'm at work. They barely clean off their own table, let alone others that they do not plan to sit at. After being screamed at for burgers taking so long to cook, or fries not being crispy enough, or there not being ice in the machine, these boys reminded me why I originally loved working in the kitchen and in the food industry: connection.

I walked their food over to them, and asked what frat they were a part of because I wanted to brag about them to their president. That made them a tad confused. To them they didn't do anything bragging worthy, they simply cleaned up a little and apologized for something they thought they should apologize for. These amazing Pike gentlemen were right. It might not be something brag worthy, but to someone who is used to classmates over-looking the time or simply forgetting that I am the one that cooked their food when they complain about the wait time, a simple apology when it wasn't needed meant a lot.

Food service workers are people, and here at Stetson a good majority are students. When people complain about The Commons or The Hat Rack it hurts those workers. We all think everything is going fine, until we log onto Yik Yak and see complaints about wait times or there not being ice the machine or whatever else could have been fixed with a simple conversation, a connection between worker and student.

My job is the best on campus. I get the same people nearly every night and can recite their order and possibly name by see a picture.

Smokehouse double, no onion rings, two sauceson the side.

Grilled chicken, no tomato, and make sure you put it on a separate sheet because she is allergic.

She might do a veggie burger extra onions and lettuce, unless it has been a really tough week and then it is tenders all the way.

Double turkey burger with pepper-jack, because he is obsessed. Unless he had one for lunch, and then it will be a single.

These are just a few, and I love talking with each and every person that wants to engage with one with me. My job is to make their food and serve it with a smile. But I rather serve it with something more. I want to be able to make them smile, or chuckle. School is hard, and there have been many days when they only human interaction I have is with the workers in the Commons.

Seeing students day in and day out kind of gets the workers attuned to what is going on in the mind of the typical college student’s head. For example, during exam week I try make sure our freezers are full because cheese fries are the main meal that week. Shakes stop being popular after the second month of school because everyone is out of Hatterbucks, and if they are ordered it is usually for a reason of: I'm stressed, happy, sad, or treating myself for getting through the week; and I can tell what that reason based on the tone in their voice.

Food service workers are humans. But we also pick up on things that others don’t always notice. Even though we may not know everyone's names, like some of the Commons workers who work on the registrar, don't think that we care about you all any less.

Thank you gentlemen from Pike for reminding me that students do actually care about us food service workers like we try to care for you all. Thank you for appreciating us. You have restore my faith in humanity, and I plan to pay it forward to my other co-workers who I don’t openly appreciate enough.