I worked undercover as a crew member in seven quick-serves where I collected the data for My Secret Life on the McJob. The hardest jobs I had were working the front counter at Arby’s and the drive-thru window at Wendy’s. Keep in mind I make a living as a presenter, either in the classroom or at conventions and conferences around the country. What I do (give speeches) is regularly voted one of the most terrifying things people face in their lives. Well, I have a new nomination for terror: standing in front of a lunch rush crowd without sufficient training and being expected to keep up when both speed and accuracy are demanded—on both sides of the counter!

Fifteen minutes into my first counter day at Arby’s, and at least 30 minutes before the heart of lunch rush, a senior citizen in a walker comes slowly forward in my line and says, “Give me a senior coffee, please.” This shouldn’t be hard, I think to myself. I touch “beverages” on the main menu—and nothing on the second screen looks remotely like a discounted cup of senior coffee.

I have an inspiration: Try “value items,” another option on the screen. Again no luck.

As I’m sweating what to do, my helpful senior reaches his deeply veined and gnarled hand around the register and points at a button. “Try that one, Sonny,” he says. He’s pointing at the “specials” option, and I think, How could that be right? I try it anyway, being fresh out of any better idea. Guess what? Senior coffee is an option there. He beams: “I do this every day, Sonny.” For some reason I’m only slightly embarrassed­—maybe because he calls me Sonny.

When my head clears I look at my line—it’s longer and, judging from faces, approaching the status of DEFCON 3. How can anyone enjoy this job? You have to greet people who are rushed and who expect you to rush even faster all the while putting on a pleasant air that is occasionally tested—severely I might add—by angry customers who definitely did not get it their way. Put me back on the bun-warmer job, I think. It was easy. No real pressure. If I have to do this again tomorrow, I don’t know if I’m going to make it.

In that sentence is one of my concerns about fast food: All jobs are not created equal! Too often, though, we seem to treat them as if they are. All too often there is a huge hidden turnover cost. Let me explain.

When I’m not being a professor or presenter from SUNY Buffalo, I design pay systems for companies. I’m also co-author of a book on compensation. Despite this, the way quick-serves pay sometimes perplexes me.

Think about all the jobs in a store. Now picture those jobs populated by very good employees. Now picture an unexpected turnover. Which job would you most dread having a very good employee leave? I know my answer to this question: The jobs that require interaction with customers are by far the hardest in the store. Yeah, I know you can make a case for the lead assembly job—in Burger King it was the crew member working the first sandwich board and directing the work of most other assemblers in the store. That’s a hard job, but I don’t think it’s as hard as dealing with customers.

Let’s talk about these jobs for a minute because they require what science calls emotional labor. Roughly one third of all jobs require interaction with customers. And for each of these jobs there is an expectation that the employees will be pleasant or at least not unpleasant. Not everyone has this skill. There is a widely read book in science called The Managed Heart, written by Arlie Hochschild, which introduced the concept of emotional labor. Her best example of emotional labor is evident in the work of a flight attendant. Next time you fly, pay attention to good flight attendants—they smile at the silliest requests and the most boorish behavior. Short of security problems, they put up with most everything and keep a smile. Physically the job isn’t hard, but the emotional cost of maintaining a smile and reacting to stress with a positive attitude can be a challenge.

I find front-of-the-house jobs in quick-serves to be similarly challenging. Robberies are all too common in any fast-food environment, and the front counter is most likely to be the point of first contact. Even more common is the rude customer.

I remember many instances of crew coming back from the counter to vent their anger at real indignities. One was a black woman who was accused of being uppity by a white customer. According to the customer, the crew member was being “too familiar.” But when the store manager heard both sides of the argument, he sided with the customer.

We walk a fine line in our customer interactions, and the very best on this tight rope add incredible value to a store. Should they be paid more, though, for this emotional labor? I know there is a cost to paying different jobs differently. At a minimum this adds to labor costs, but it also might increase concerns about fairness. After all, every change in traditional wage structures will spur concerns about equity.

Balanced against this is the reality that these jobs aren’t created equal. They aren’t like assembly-line jobs where every position is reasonably similar in physical and emotional labor. And they most certainly aren’t equal if we lose a key employee. Just ask your store managers which jobs cause gray hair when someone leaves. I bet they’re high on emotional labor.

I believe a wage difference is both fair, and in the long run, likely to get the best people in the most valuable jobs. Next month I will talk about a type of incentive plan that might just allow you to recognize these employees more without raising your labor costs too much.