Tiffany :: Chuck E. Cheese :: February 2008
I almost got the job wearing the mouse costume, but in a strange twist of fate, I had actually gotten what I wanted.
And that was to serve the highly priced pizza to little kids and their exhausted mothers. And to serve cakes at birthday parties to what I can only describe as a wide array of hyper, undisciplined first-graders.
And I also serve to be laughed at, mocked, yelled at, stomped on, and the rare occasion of being vomited on.
But that only happened once. And it turned out to be, unsurprisingly, one of the worst highlights of my career.
So many kids came in and out through the doors that it got me thinking about how they acted at home. Wild, unruly-- it was probably just the beginning. Of course, I’d had my share of sweet kids as well, the ones that made it almost worth continuing the job.
Like this one little girl, Tess. She reminded me of myself, when I was her age and coming to these birthday parties that I didn’t want to go to.
“Okay, we will take the--” the man I guessed was her dad looked at the menu, struggling to read the small print, or maybe the fluorescent color. “The Munch and Play saver.”
The woman, presumably his wife, crouched down to the little girl’s level. She held another child, a boy, on her hip. “Tess, don’t you think this is going to be fun?”
“I guess,” the little girl replied shyly. “I’m hungry, though.”
“Good,” the man said, ruffling her hair. “Because Chuck E. Cheese is world-famous for their pizza and atmosphere.”
“Oh, hush,” the woman said, clocking him on the arm. “We will take just a cheese pizza.”
“Okay, that’s going to be $21.86. And it should be ready in about fifteen minutes,” I informed them with a smile.
“Wow, okay,” the man said, obviously and understandably a little shocked at the price. It was probably a birthday party they’d been forced into going.
They paid and went over and sat down. The woman left for a few minutes with the baby and the man just talked to his little girl and it made me think of me and my dad.
Within earshot, I heard, “I really don’t like Carrie that much.”
The man was a little bit surprised to hear her say this, and the only other thing I listened to before tuning out was, “At least I can help you win tickets.”
Little Tess giggled and nodded.
The woman returned to the table with the little boy, who had to have been about two. He was a little fussy and the woman was unsure. “Jim, you think we should take him to my mom’s?”
“He’ll be okay, Pam. We can go if you think we need to. I kind of had my hopes set on that pencil with the bubble wand inside. But then again, I could always count on Tess to win it for me.”
Pam laughed and Tess giggled, though I’m sure she didn’t really understand the whole conversation.
Of course, it had been a long time since I was seven. And I remembered always wanting to feel older, pretending I got things when I really didn’t.
I brought out their pizza and got thanks all around. I also supplied them with their tokens, which Tess begrudgingly accepted.
It was a random Tuesday, and the party had probably gotten a better rate because of the weird date and time. It was the only one that night, which my manager had told me was, “a good opportunity to be energetic and lively and fun, with an extra dose of fun!”
I watched as Tess walked slowly over to the rest of the kids. At least her parents had spared her the eating and show portion of the party. When the party mom came over to ask them why Tess had only attended the second hour, I had some fun that normally I didn’t find at Chuck E. Cheese.
I was cleaning tables and making my usual go-around, restocking things. My face was sweaty and my eye had a definite flake of pepper stuck in it that I had been battling with for the past hour. I moved on to mopping the floors, sticky with soda pop.
I reached the table in between Tess’s parents and an elderly couple, waiting for grandkids to be finished playing. And I heard the unmistakeable voice of an angry soccer mom.
“Jim, Pam, so glad you could make it,” she smiled scarily. “Who are you, by the way?”
Jim raised an eyebrow and Pam looked at the other mom quizzically. “What do you mean?”
The little boy was now happily chewing on a pizza crust and sitting on Jim’s lap. Jim seemed to focus his attention on the baby, so as not to get involved.
I would have done the same thing. Those moms can be larger-than-life amounts of intimidating.
“I mean, you are not Tess and Jack’s parents. You’re not Maeghan and Kyle,” she said, and I wondered what the real problem was. Because that had to be a lie. These people were not liars.
Were they?
“No, we’re not. But I’m Maeghan’s sister, and we’re taking care of her kids tonight. If that clears things up for you,” Pam said sweetly.
Now, I wasn’t an expert on this, but I was pretty sure that what happened next was nothing short of reality-TV quality.
“Well then,” the soccer mom said. “Next time you decide to ‘babysit,’ try being punctual. So as not to hurt another child’s feelings. Or to criticize all of that child’s mother’s hard work.”
“Um,” was all Pam, stunned, could come up with.
Jim stepped in, but I guess Uncle Jim was the better title. “Listen, we were really just trying to enjoy some bonding time. Tess and I discussed it thoroughly, and we came to a joint decision that after her awful day at school-- She fell down on the monkey bars-- that her Aunt Pam and I would spend the first hour with her.”
“Ah-ha. Right. Well--” the mom looked the pair over. “Thanks for the gifts.”
And with that, in a flash, Jim and Pam were laughing as soon as they could.
Jim, “Or to criticize all my hard work.”
Pam, “Well, then.”
Their faces were red, they were completely gone. Even the baby, Jack, was laughing. Now that I was behind the counter, they waved me over.
“Did you-- see that?” Jim asked me, probably unaware that I had been mopping the floor right next to them for the duration.
I glanced behind me, at the party and everything else that I had grown accustomed to seeing. “Yes. I did see that.”
“Wasn’t it-- awful?” Pam asked me, a little embarrassed, but trying to hide it.
“Not as bad as it could have been,” I answered quietly. Just for fun, and because they seemed like fun people, I added a fun bit from the previous month. “She could have called you a bitch.”
Jim furrowed his brow, bouncing Jack on his knee. It was hard to believe he wasn’t his dad. “Are you serious?”
I heard my manager calling me, saying something needed fixed.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, “It gets pretty bad.”
“Promise me we won’t be like that,” Pam said.
I went and attended to the jammed token machine. Tess appeared next to me and said, “Is that easy to fix?”
I smiled and said it was no problem. Then I told her it was okay she didn’t like Carrie.
She giggled and said, “Good. Uncle Jim said that, too. Only I wasn’t supposta tell.”
And that is why I continue to work at Chuck E. Cheese, for those one in a million moments of true happiness. The motto they promise as soon as you walk in the door.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Jim and Pam on a fun little outing to a place that I absolutely cannot stand :)
Chapter End Notes:
hope you enjoyed. any feedback is appreciated! :)
