MY FIRST JOB

Several of us were talking about our first jobs today. Most were fairly typical. Almost all the women began as baby sitters. One was a papergirl. The other fellow worked on the family farm and did that for several years. I had two jobs before the one I consider my first job. I never got paid for the other two.

I began “working” with my brother-in-law at his donut shop. He ran a small corner coffee shop, convenience store and made fresh donuts. He also delivered his donuts to a number of stores. This is before the days of the big donut making machines. He mixed his cake donuts by hand and I learned to hand dip them into the various frostings and top with sprinkles or nuts or candies (just one of those which I made for me). I spend the night at their place and worked for an hour or two on Saturday morning. I helped my sister run the shop while her husband was making deliveries. In retrospect I have no idea how they got me up so early. There was no money, but I could eat all the donuts I wanted. I eventually learned to hate donuts. My mother told me this is what you do to help family. That comment was meant to replace money.

The second job was going door-to-door selling Watkins and Fuller Brush products. My neighbor was the regional distributor for both products. He and my mother talked me into it. I was an exceptionally shy kid and knew I could not do the job. I hated initiating conversations; I never knew what to say. I knocked on about a dozen doors and walked on past two-dozen houses. I sold nothing and got paid nothing and no one turned me away. They didn’t want anything, and I did take no for an answer. These were the days when housewives were at home. I was petrified and no one bit me.

At the beginning of my junior year in high I decided it was time to get a paying job. I searched the paper for jobs I thought I could handle. After a few days of seeing the same ad appear everyday I walked down the hill after school for three days in a row, sat on the bus bench across the street from the shoe store trying to get up the nerve to go in and ask for a job. They were advertising for a part time salesman. I have no idea what made me think I could be a salesman; I reasoned that people were coming in to buy shoes. I was not going to their door to convince them to buy something I was already convinced they did not want.

On day four I went into the store and was a nervous wreck. I was lead to the back and up a narrow staircase to a room that ran the width of the store and had a ceiling that was only five feet high. I walked in with my head bowed and sat next the managers desk. What can I do to help you? I have come to apply for the part-time salesman’s job. He looked at me and smiled then laughed. I doubt you could sell anything. I thought the same thing, but didn’t want to admit it.

Well I do have one job where you might fit in. I need a stock boy two to three times a week. You would be responsible to run stock and unpack the arriving shoes. Are you interested? Yes, very much. I had no idea what it meant to run stock, but I assumed I would be hiding in the back some place. Come back on Monday right after school and we will see if you work out.

I did not breath easy until I got out of the store and was a block away. I was ecstatic. I arrived on Monday and there were two other boys there for the same job. He was going to try us all out before he hired only one of us. I was panic-stricken. The other two were relaxed. They were friends and seemed to handle being there with ease.

We were told to go through all the shelving and take out all the empty boxes and flatten them, then move all the full boxes closer together so there are no spaces. Keep all the remaining shoes in order by size and identification number so they can be found. That is what he meant by running the stock.

We were sent to three different parts of the store and told he would check back with us in two hours. I learned something about shoeboxes from the 50’s. They all had a string embedded around the rim of the box. Every one I tore cut into my hand. I was bleeding slightly by the time I was done. I finished my section in just a little over an hour and didn’t know what to do. I was told it would take two hours. I went back over everything to see if I missed something or moved the boxes wrong. Everything was right. I returned to the back stacks and bumped into the manager. Are you done? Yes sir. He walked through my area told me I did a good job and to come back on Thursday to begin working. I got the job.

I went out and walked a half a block away to the bus stop. I must have just missed the bus because I waited nearly twenty minutes. I saw the other two guys coming out just before I got on the bus. They were clearly unhappy. They gave me a dirty look and I jumped on the bus hoping the driver would close the doors and move immediately. You never know.