By Allie Daugherty, Managing Editor

Most people don’t know what noise a peacock makes. I didn’t, until I got a job at the zoo last summer.

The cool thing about the San Diego Zoo is it doesn’t cage its peacocks. Instead, the six or seven of them run around the park free as birds – pun intended.

I love peacocks in general, but what I hated about these was they always looked gorgeous and majestic, while I was stuck in my uniform: A black baseball cap, khaki slacks that had to be worn at my natural waistline and a tucked-in Hawaiian shirt patterned with leopards and toucans. It was oh so sexy.

I also disliked how every time one of the peacocks flew down from a tree onto the ground, everyone would become instantly fascinated, whip out their cameras and stop mid-stride. This happened frequently, which made it very hard to walk to the restaurant I worked at.

The restaurant, which was called Poppy’s Patio, was my first turn at food service. It will probably be my last. This is because the most important thing I learned during my brief stay, besides how to salt a soft pretzel or roll a churro, was the average person does not know how to order food. The odd regulations at the zoo made it even harder. Allow me to demonstrate.

“Hi! What can I get for you?”

“Yeah, what kind of drinks do you have?”

“Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, pink lemonade, orange soda and iced tea.”

“I’ll have a Dr. Pepper.”

“We don’t have Dr. Pepper.”

“OK, I’ll take a root beer.”

This is when I stare with my eyebrows raised for a few seconds. Why did you even ask what we had? “We don’t have root beer, either.”

“Oh.”

Apparently, choosing a drink is too difficult for some people. “If you don’t like those selections, we also have Icees,” I offer.

“Oh! Really? What kind?”

“Cherry, blue raspberry and lemonade.” Now we’re getting somewhere.

“Great! I’ll take a Coke.”

I want to stab this customer with our biodegradable corn starch disposable knives. I pour the 42 oz. drink and hand it over.

“Actually, I didn’t want any ice.”

This clarification always boggles me. I can’t read minds. Now I have to pour the entire thing out and start again.

When I give the new cup, the customer stares at me. “Aren’t you going to put a lid on that?”

Why don’t you put a lid on it?

I want to scream that if we had lids, I would be clever enough to use them. “We don’t carry lids or straws for the safety of the animals.”

“So they’re not outside?”

Yes, that is exactly what “We don’t carry them” means. They’re outside. Go check. Anything that will get you to leave.

A similar conversation would usually occur when customers tried to order entrées. Or desserts. Or a snack. It was a revolving door of idiocy.

But, of course, the job wasn’t too horrible. I did learn how to make kettle corn in a real kettle, and I got free admission to both the zoo and the Wild Animal Park. My only regret is that I never learned what noise a giraffe makes.

—Allie Daugherty is a journalism junior.

—This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of The Daily Aztec.