“Hello!” shouted an impatient, irritated customer standing in line ready to climb the counter and make his food himself. I was a volunteer for Matt’s Saloon at the Best-fest Oktoberfest up in Prescott. They had me taking orders and serving at the front of the booth.

I never was a “people person”, and i could never handle anyone that would give me attitude. I distinguished society as filled with corrupt, annoying, and misguided people. Because of my view of the world, I distanced myself. When eating anywhere that had waiters, I always considered them foolish for taking a job that had to deal with handling the horrible variety of people day in and day out. I could never find it in myself to truly appreciate what they did for me. I would grit my teeth when they had to ask twice what i had wanted to drink; I would leave poor tips because i thought their performance at their job was below expectations. Luckily, they had a paycheck to look forward to. I realized that i criticized waiters every visit to a restaurant. And now i was in their position dealing with replicas of me that would judge me, shout at me, and smack their lips at my every action.
“They need to replace you! You are slow!” exclaimed a grumpy senile man.
“You are the slo-” was all i could sputter before another volunteer covered my mouth muffling out the last half of my sentence.
Not knowing how to handle these people, I was as lost as a freshman entering high school. Annoyed and depleted of patience, I would gleefully jump and smile when asked to go get more supplies. The supply retrieving time was short lived, but every second of it was definitely embraced.
The people coming to my booth varied from mothers with crying babies, to hipsters thinking they should be put above everyone else, and to couples unable to make up their minds. I became a fire hydrant and everyone else turned into the dogs coming to ruin my day.The waves of people were perfectly timed to put maximum pressure and stress on me as i scrambled to scribble orders down, take orders, and run up and down the street for supplies. While everyone received their meal, I , with my stomach growling, suffered from smelling savory spices and having to restrain from eating an ordered plate.
After three strenuous days of volunteering for this booth, I finally perceived the impact my actions did to waiters. I clean my tables,organize my used platters and silverware, and even tip more. My patience has grown because i know the stark hardships the wonderful working waiters face daily.