Mom posted a great description of my little one's chorus performance at the Kennedy Center. The Ex had the best seats and got this great picture for me. She's smiling at her grandma and siblings who were "embarrassing." Looks like she's enjoying their shenanigans in the balcony.
.jpg)
My oldest daughter got her first real job as a hostess and food runner in a nearby restaurant (of course, adding another shift to my taxi schedule.) Her initial adorable anxieties brought back memories of first days on other jobs I've had.
I got fired - very publicly, from my first job as a telephone interviewer. Seems they needed to make an example of the caller who was interviewing the wrong respondent. I was about my daughter's age because it was before I could drive and I had to call my mom to come get me. I remember sitting out on the curb after getting yelled at in front of all my co-workers. What a memorable misery.
Another early career catastrophe came as a waitress at Bob's Big Boy. I was much more experienced and mature - probably 17. It was a busy Saturday and the orange juice fountain ran dry. I quickly looked in the walk-in and found a big tub of already mixed OJ and refilled the fountain, serving the first glass to my customer. He quickly - and angrily - called me back over, wondering what kind of sick person I was to serve him raw eggs in his juice glass.
You know, eggs can get real frothy in one of those fountains. Boy were a lot of folks mad about that mistake! And was it ever hard to clean up that error.
Any stories from your earliest employment endeavors?
3 comments:
Oh, that is perfect. Raw eggs in the OJ machine? I could use that one sometime. What a hoot! My first job was mowing lawns for $3 a lawn. I remember in jr. high running a paper route that my dad eventually took over. He took mine and the two routes my brother had and ended up paying the monthly mortgage payment with the paper route.
Working for my dad on the farm around 16. I ran the tractor- actually the spray barrel mounted on the front- into the fence row when I stepped on the wrong brake to turn at the end of a row. Cha ching! $80 repair. And I didn't go back to tractor driving except once. I figure both my dad and brother were cringing when I got started.
I finally remembered:
I served romaine in a spinach salad. I didn't know the difference
Post a Comment