My first job was at Legg Mason making cold calls to HR directors about switching their 401k plans. What I learned is that I will never have a job making cold calls again.
It's the American way! Hell, the only reason the industry I'm in now exists is due to this. So, I'm thankful.
My first summer job was when I was 14. I did KP (cleaned dishes) at a mess hall (cafeteria) for Army MP's. Those were about the sickest group of perv's I have ever been around in my life. Boy, did I get an education that summer. When I think about what the one-toothed-bald-headed-redneck-cretin-head-cook threatened to do to me on a daily basis (cue the dueling banjos), I am not too surprised about the goings on in Iraq and Afganistan. The left over food from the mess hall was put into corregated metal trashcans and then put in a refrigerated room. Once a week the pigfarmer came and took the slop. While in the refrigerated room, the grease congealed in the crevices of the trashcans, which then had to be scrubbed out by hand in the hot summer sun. Good times, for $2.35/hour. Next I lifeguarded for a few summers through high school. A big step up from KP duty, and the people interested in me were actually of the opposite sex! One time I had to pull a kid out of the pool who wasn't breathing, gave him mouth to mouth, and saved his life. Not bad for a minimum wage kid. Good fringe benefits (as long as you avoided the jealous husbands ) and great job! Then when I was in college I started my own painting company painting houses. Hard work, but I set my own schedule and made a ton of money. I eventually got to where I didn't mind painting so much, but you had to watch out for the jealous husbands . Actually, the quiet desparation of the average housewife became kind of depressing, but that's another thread. Went to law school and went back to lifeguarding at a lake at a county park. Much different than working at a pool. The water was pretty muddy, so if someone went under you could lose them in a hurry. It was a very rural area of Virginia, where the locals loved to drink and swim. Not a good combination. I pulled one kid out, he must of been 12, and the bourbon was strong enough on his breath to knock me over. One Saturday we had seven rescues. I thought we would lose someone for sure, but we never did. Another job with great fringe benefits :grin: , but also the worst job ever. This was a public park, and we had to clean the restrooms in the bathhouse. We had black industrial rubber gloves that were thicker than the tires on monster trucks. I was just glad I didn't have to clean the girls' room, man what they would leave .... After my second year of law school (I never clerked anywhere), I worked as a cowboy on a ranch in Florida. We worked from cain't to cain't (from when you couldn't see in the morning till you couldn't see at night). $35 a day (got paid for 5 days a week, worked 7), and all the steak and beans you could eat. Steak for breakfast if you wanted it. My favorite job ever. I loved being a cowboy and never got throwed. I had great experiences working, and unlike most on this board never went to summer school and never took a summer off. I didn't think I was missing anything at the time and I still don't.
Small pizza place at 16. My friend was 15 and we both applied. He was nervous they'd know, so when they asked him what he wanted to do, he said "I'll wash dishes, or whatever" whereas I told them "Cook pizza, I guess." I learned not to 'grovel' for any old job, and have some confidence. It was a decent job with decent bosses, crappy pay, and a generally fun group of folks with which to work. I learned that "If you have time to lean, you have time to clean." I learned that if you're not an idiot, they will notice, as many people seem to be. I learned that you have to be careful with sharp knives. I learned that you have to be wary of the people cooking your food. I learned while delivering pizza in the bosses car while we were busy that delivering in someone else's car was better than being in the kitchen, but that delivering in your own car barely offset the benefits, if at all. I learned that the awesome Mach1 mustang that the manager had wasn't as cool as it seemed, as when I asked him about how cool it was that he managed the place in high school (senior) and had such an awesome car, he told me "well, it's not as awesome as a college education, and that's about what it has cost me." I didn't do the math, but it was an interesting lesson at 16. It really was a nice car.
Bagged groceries, pushed carts, and then tended the cash register from 16-18 at HEB in an affluent, suburban area of Katy. When I started I made I believe a few cents above the minimum wage at that time, $5.25/hr. When I left, my raises had me at about $7.25/hr. It was boring and draining, and I learned some about hard work (and what kind of work I actually wanted to do), but I learned more about what it's like to be overlooked or even directly dehumanized, despite working my ass into the ground. I learned how narrowly some people draw their line between who is worthy of their simple respect, and who is indispensable. I learned more about how important it is to respect others who are genuinely doing their best to complete their work, even if it's a simple smile or a friendly comment. I was truly humbled. Then I went to college, began a campaign of self-absorbed, jaded contempt, and then I knew the world.
I was a newspaper boy when I was about 8. I used to get up super early, wrap and bag newspapers, then ride my bike around and throw them into people's lawns. Earl Campbell was on my route and I got to meet him a couple times. But I never really thought of that as a job, just as a way to supplement my meager allowance (earned in part by mowing and weeding in the yard and washing the family cars), so I could buy more comic books. When I was twelve I started working at Baskin Robbins in the Village (I think it's still there). I made $2.40/hour for a year and then I got a promotion to "senior staff" and made $2.60. On my way to my current job where I make art for a living, I worked most of the crap jobs around. Bartender, coffee jerk, waiter, P.A. on TV commercials (nothing but hauling heavy equipment in and out of trucks), telemarketer, book seller, other retail, many registers, tech support, technical writing, computer network administrator, online arts writer/editor, box office... What I learned from these jobs is that jobs suck and bosses suck more. And, by working alongside people much older than me, some of them in their twilight years, I learned that for most people life sucks because jobs suck and bosses suck and most people can never get out from under all that. I did, but it was mostly luck. I'm so sure that bigtexxx learned the value of hard work by mowing some lawns before he moved into that fictional house in River Oaks he's just a little too eager to brag about.
through the YMCA I worked at the local recycling center on weekends. I was 13 years old making 4.25 an hour at the time, which was minimum wage. my and my hooligan friends were making bank and having a great time together. one of us would stand on the top of a giant bin filled with cardboard and just jump in feet first, crushing the pile down to leave room for more... payday was glorious. we had to get up at the crack of dawn while everyone else was watching cartoons and eating Shipley's Donuts.
You're a sucker if you don't, you better believe that half of the people who are in power or have money in this system have gamed the system.
Mom & Pop Video store clerk. YES, we had a "back room." I was 18 and got paid minimum wage to watch movies for free while "I worked." :grin: Consequently, I know lots about movies and lots about actors, actresses, etc. Also pr0n. Dude. They only asked what your first job was.
Damn looking at some of the long posts in this page... some of you must have really taken your first jobs seriously.
first job was a bagger at albertson's. only lasted the summer as the dad and step b.... didnt want me working while going to school. as soon as school ended, I joined the navy. good times
In Houston, from age 12-18, I worked for my dad opening, marking, and stacking bread in his stepvan for store delivery the following day. This was a couple of hours a day, six days a week, and on Saturdays I would accompany him on the route and stock the shelves. Learned to drive in his 1964 GMC stepvan. My first non-dad job was as at Bonanza steak house in Nacogdoches.
