Aside from owning a Steelers/Pens/Bucs T-shirt and calling soda "pop," working at Kennywood, at least once when you were a teenager, is the quintessential feature of growing up in Pittsburgh. It's practically a Yinzer rite of passage that you can't possibly understand unless you've been through it. You come out the other side like a hardened war veteran.

1. No, it's nothing like "Adventureland."

Yeah, that indie movie with the Social Network guy and Kristen Stewart that came out when we were all still in high school? Working at an actual amusement park is nothing close to that. It was about these teenagers working at an amusement park in the 80s, and the reason people liken it to working at Kennywood every time they find out you worked there is because they used Kennywood to film in. It's a very lose interpretation of what it means to work at an amusement park (as in, everyone gets to do what they want, there are no rules, everyone finds someone to hook up with and you get to straight up tell the guests when they're being stupid) and is not at all accurate. It's a good movie though.

2. You're now really, really good at keeping a straight face.

I've never lived anywhere but Western PA for my entire life but I'd like to think my stint at working at Kennywood has let me see it all. I mean, really, all of it. I've seen a group of 14-year olds roll up with matching Kennywood outfits, only for all of them to order a strawberry smoothie. I've overheard their conversations about which guys they've slept with (no, for real, it was horrific, someone find their parents please). I've seen snobby soccer moms put their Michael Kors bags all over my dirty, jimmie coated counter and order a froyo cone, only to drop said cone on their very expensive purse and look at me like I had something to do with it (maybe just don't bring your designer bags to an amusement park?). I've seen a little old Italian man with enough gold chains to be an extra in a Kanye video proudly show them off during Italian day. I've seen a lot. The cool thing about the job was learning not to let my (very expressive, very naturally bitchy) face betray me. I'm definitely judging you, you just can't tell. It's truly become an art form.

3. The 4th of July has scarred you for life.

Seriously. You have near war like memories of working on the fourth at Kennywood. From literally the second your windows opened, people were lined up for this and for that. The weird thing is, not one of those people seemed to even be having a good time. Your bratty kids wanted to spend the day in the heat, waiting in line for the Phantom so you've decided to take it out on me when my ice cream machine is taking too long because it's too hot. This is a holiday I would kill to spend with my friends and family but I'm here giving miserable, entitled parents and kids who can't understand the difference between ice cream and frozen yogurt excellent customer service, while running for the other kids in my stand who are running out of literally every supply under the sun. And I couldn't even watch the fireworks.

4. Your customer service skills (and empathy) are on point.

Amusement park employees truly do not get enough credit for the shit they put up with. I've heard multiple stories about friends working in rides who can't let kids on because they weren't tall enough to ride safely, only to be brutally berated by angry parents. God forbid that kid happened to be a different skin color because then they were racist. There's nothing quite so humbling, demeaning and powerful at the same time as being able to maintain your smile and charm while being screamed at by a grandparent that they're allergic to the nuts in their parfait, even though you told them they were in there and it's also on the GIANT MENU ABOVE MY HEAD IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE. No really, your favorite thing in the world is listening to a mother bitch you out about why the 99 cent refill is actually 1.06$ because she's a grown woman and doesn't know what tax is. And after all that, you're still able to look somewhat understanding and nod and say "I'm so sorry about that, is there anything I can do?" knowing damn well, you're not sorry.

5. "Chimes" is the best sound in the entire world.

You knew it was closing time when they played the "Goodnight" song, after the fireworks and the neon lights and rides had been turned off. By the time "Chimes" rolled around, you could finally close your window and you've never been more relieved. It's like a huge sigh of relief. It's the most relaxed you'll be for 10 hours before you're here at 9 a.m. to open again. As long as I made it to "Chimes" I knew I'd be fine.

6. It still might have been your favorite job.

Despite the shockingly rude customers, the supportive yet equally as stressed out management staff, the days you spent sweating your ass off in a tiny booth in 85-degree weather, it was a decent job. The hours were long but your paycheck was amazing, there were a few kids whose smiles and excitement of being at Kennywood made you feel a little better. The knowledge that you worked at a place almost as old as Pittsburgh itself and that so many Pittsburgher's consider and important part of their personal history is kind of great. The work friends you made got you through the day, and finally, the night as you walked out on your last day of the summer, you missed it a little bit.