For the last two summers, I’ve spent my days climbing to heights of up to 200 feet, apologizing about the weather to people I don’t know, and helping children find lost parents. People yell at me, I clean up vomit, and I have become unnaturally good at walking quickly through crowds.

I am a ride operator at an amusement park.

Before I became a ride operator, I was just a regular coaster enthusiast, albeit a younger one. I had visited such great parks as Hershey Park, Kings Dominion, Six Flags Great Adventure, Cedar Point, and of course, my home park and future employer, Dorney Park. To me, time at a park was spent one of three ways: riding, waiting to ride, or going from ride to ride. At Dorney, my friend and I would talk to the operators on Steel Force simply because we would spend literally the entire day there and the employees would be amused enough to ask us how many times we had ridden. We knew they had to check our restraints, and people had to wear their shoes because there was a floor, but other than that we just rode and rode and rode, caring for nothing but the ride.

As I’m sure you’ve noticed, people tend to evaluate others in comparison with themselves, and I am no exception. With my employment to Dorney Park came many opportunities to visit other parks, which I leapt upon like a hungry tiger. However, something was different in my new adventures – suddenly, I noticed the employees and certain things became more important to me. Working on rides, you’re taught observation is key, and that somehow bled into my park visits.

First of all, capacity and efficiency became something I had a critical eye for. Complaining, “I hate waiting in line” turned into “They can move faster than that, I could move faster than that!” If a team was working fast, I felt pride on their behalf; if a crew was careless, I was irritated at them for making us wait for their sloth. I applauded systems that clearly created beautiful efficiency, like Millennium Force, and scorned systems that produced capacity nightmares, like Fahrenheit. I’ve always disliked waiting in line but while I thought it was the people in the line that were frustrating, now the blame could potentially be placed on the ride operators themselves or the park for how they check the trains. It is no longer just the rides that made a park for me, it is also the operations.

Cedar Fair parks fall under an even higher judgement as my friends and I are familiar with company policies. At other parks, we make a game of looking at their uniforms, trying to guess who the supervisor is, what their ID tags mean, and how they run the ride. At Cedar Fair parks, we know all of that, and instead look at differences between our parks and theirs and pay close attention to their employees. We still ride the rides, but as we’re waiting for the next train, we observe. The Paramount Parks, for example, have been a pleasure to visit. I’ve even left positive guest comments for employees at Kings Island because of how enthusiastic and helpful they were. Cedar Point is where I’m most balanced, because I’m happy we don’t have their uniforms, but I’m jealous because they have wireless mics. Worlds of Fun has been the only real disappointment, as I’ve never seen slower operations or more lackadaisical employees anywhere.

One of the more amusing things about visiting other parks is that I feel a sort of kinship with ride operators, even outside of my park chain. I essentially attempt to become the perfect guest for the ride operator. If I hear a guest berating a ride operator (not to their face), I defend them, I’m more efficient with putting away personal items and strapping in to attempt to avoid inconveniencing the attendant, and I thank every single employee I encounter. Plus, daily habits die hard as I will refuse to let line jumpers pass (which once almost got me into a fight, but that’s another story), hold doors open for other guests, and pick up trash without paying attention.

There are other things I notice outside of the employees, too. I pay more attention to their ride information signs, and take note of park policies faster. Safety issues, especially in comparison to Cedar Fair’s (often times redundant) safety procedures catch my eye. Queue lines and how well they’re kept and managed don’t go unnoticed. Of course, comparisons to our park pop up, such as the fact that none of Dorney’s rides have air gates, whereas every other park I’ve been to does, unless it has no gates at all. Six Flags’ restricted area signs are unceasingly humorous, as are their highlighter uniforms, and incessant catering to advertising. Also, while I had previously never been in any Guest Services, I now go in quite often and get questions and jokes about Dorney, and have given random employees positive or negative comments.

I think that upon becoming a ride operator, I started to feel a new appreciation for amusement parks. There’s so much that goes into it that you don’t realize. You’re walking up a queue that has been swept and wiped down, into a station that recently had vomit in it, but you don’t know that. The train you’re sitting in was inspected and confirmed to be working properly that morning and now this person you don’t even know is putting your hat away for you and ensuring the security of your very life. So many things could go wrong when you’re flying around steel track at 50-something miles per hour, but it doesn’t. You have an amazing ride, hop off in the station, grab your hat, and dash down stairs that could easily be covered in trash if it weren’t for the employees picking it all up the night before or that morning. Walking through the park, you enjoy sitting on a clean bench under a bee-free tree before proceeding to the next ride. These people have to listen to their bosses for literally hours about guest satisfaction and your experience is the product.

Yeah, I’m crazy excited to go to new or previously-visited parks. Yeah, I run up the stairs, I hop into the train, I grin like a maniac the whole ride, and I run back out. But seeing all of those details, all of that effort, just for me, for you, for our friends and our families, it turns what was previously a great experience into a fantastic one. Becoming a ride operator has taught me to appreciate, even more, my amusement park adventures.