If you were to ask the IRS my, the first job I ever had was working at a branch of a franchise ice cream shop. I was 17 years old and it taught me early on to hate employment. Myself and the other young employees smelled a problem very early on… mostly when I found myself up past midnight being forced to mop floors on school nights. In my first world/fairly privileged mindset, this was something to be expected of illegal immigrants and Russian nationals only. When I mentioned that my mom wouldn’t allow me to work that late on school nights (neither would the state, but I didn’t mention that) I got a strongly worded email from my boss, which I saved immediately, knowing that I would need something to read while Angry-Drunk in later years. I was asked to quit and gladly obliged but not until they tried to force me to work during my high school graduation.
The company owners opened their own company recently and were featured on a website I frequent – I hadn’t thought of them in years. Strangely enough their new business specializes in a certain type of booze that I fantasize about drinking at their establishment, then reminding them of who I am, proceed to get profoundly drunk and yell at them, starting every sentence with “AND ANOTHER THING…!” I’m not one for cliches and high school grudges though. But fuck them.
“I don’t need your reference you SHITTYASSHOLE!” *hiccup*
My first legitimate job came my way right before I turned 18 years old. I worked as a receptionist at an OB/GYN clinic on First Hill. I have three cousins who were born the same year I was and all of them, at the time, were working at either Abercromie and Fitch or The Gap; Christmas that year was awkward.
The doctor’s office was run by an “old school” doctor who was near retirement – in fact he retired while I was still working there. He did everything on paper, the only computer in the office was the one he used to play Solitaire while he thought we couldn’t see. By becoming friends with the office nurse I got to hear all of her disgusting vagina stories over lunch; how I managed to gain the Freshman 15 with all that going on I will never know.
After that I was a nanny which paid well and was easy, but I wasn’t well suited for it as I am famously disgusted by most children. Luckily after a breaking in period of me and the child staring at each other awkwardly over breakfast, we ended up bonding over the Graduation album by Kanye West. Letting him listen to woefully age-inappropriate music on his way to school and talk about it at great length was preferable to silence… which makes me the shittiest potential parent in the world. However, over the years he became one of my favorite people in the world and he has since grown taller than me which pisses me off and makes me want to cry proud tears all at the same time. Damn kids.
“Kids fuckin’ love me.” – Kanye West
Following the trend of me taking jobs I’m not suited for, I spent a short time selling espresso machines and accessories. I knew nothing about them, I’ve always been a terrible saleswoman and I didn’t drink coffee at the time. I lied about most of that during my interview and faked it as long as I could before it was suggested that I was better suited for the warehouse. It was a sharp observation on their part as I have long been described as having a “dark room removed from civilization” type of personality.
“I’ll just be back here… shoving things into boxes…”
During my stint in shipping I got to be a part of a mandatory barista training through our small company. I still hadn’t been drinking much coffee even though it was free at all times and I was scared to hear that we had to taste every espresso shot we pulled that day. I made upwards of fifty, but slyly tossed quite a few of them as I wasn’t interested in having my heart stop. Unfortunately enough made it through that I felt like my heart was going to hop out of my chest. I shipped more packages that day than I ever had before. Even at 6pm I was still so high on caffeine I could smell colors.
It was shortly after that I felt it was time to leave that job which led me to my current job – medical records for a nursing home. It’s a variation on the “dark room removed from civilization” theme which suits me just fine. People always say “Oh, you work with the elderly, you must have some great stories!” I do but most of them involve elderly people thinking they’re whispering when they’re not, which is always uncomfortable and hilarious. But those are stories for another day.