Jobs I've Had

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My first real actual paying job was working for my aunt. My aunt and uncle in Washington and my uncle in Idaho own a small business that sells ambulances throughout the northwest. When I was 15 or 16 and they all lived in Idaho, my aunt hired me one summer to run errands. In practice, this meant picking up dry cleaning, delivering business documents to the office of the Secretary of State, and some computer work.

It wasn't an official job — I didn't pay taxes, but I also didn't really earn anything — but it was the first money I really earned. It felt good. Besides that, they let me drive an ambulance a couple of years later. How many college freshmen can say that they've driven an ambulance?

My first official job came the summer after high school. I knew I needed money for college, so I went to the job service downtown. Things were unspectacular, until a huge new grocery store opened up fairly close to my home. I didn't want to deal much with the public, so I applied to be a stockboy. I had no work experience, but did well in the interview and had good enough high school and test scores that I had no trouble taking the job.

Training was surreal. Not only was there little training (though I think I was on vacation during the grand opening, which would have helped), but the week before the store opened, the managers held a huge pep rally and tried to make everyone feel excited about working with such a great team. Me, I planned to empty boxes and put cans on shelves neatly and leave it at that. It's nice to help little old ladies find the food they need, but I didn't see my job as life-changing. A monkey could have done it as well as I did.

Several people have told me that they quit their first jobs very quickly. I lasted just over three days. My biggest objection was that the hours were terible; as a college student I knew I would need plenty of sleep for 8 am classes, but my shift ended after midnight. Another problem was that I was only 17, and to do the job required operating equipment that I couldn't operate legally until I turned 18. When I brought this up with my supervisor, he told me to do it anyway. I had to wear a long-sleeved shirt with a tie to stack boxes (and good luck keeping a shirt clean after you drop a box of yogurt!), work in the freezer, and do all sorts of things that are perfectly reasonable to expect a stockboy to do. I had no idea what work would entail, either. Certainly my wildest dreams had nothing to do with chasing down stray carts in the parking lot at 10 pm in the wind and rain.

I wasn't a good employee, either. For example, I took two 15 minute breaks per shift for the first two days, until my supervisor told me that they should have been 10 minute breaks. Customers would continually ask me where to find things and I had no idea. My goal was never to deal with customers! One day, an older LDS shopper even berated me for not going on a mission. I'm not LDS! That was probably the day I dropped the yogurt and felt too lazy to figure out where the mop was, so I put a box over the mess and left it for the next shift.

Because the grand opening was so recent, the store had hired many more people than it really needed and planned to cut 30% of the employees in the first month. There's probably that much turnover anyway. I wrote a letter to my department head asking him to put me in that group, having decided that playing guitar and taking out student loans would be more fun. I wouldn't even go into the store after that for several years, though I did eventually buy a cheap new Dreamcast there.

The next summer, a job in a daycare fell into my lap. I had responsibility for a group of eight to twelve preschool students who'd go into kindergarten the next school year. The job paid minimum wage and I spent all day playing with kids, when I wasn't cleaning up after them. That's when I learned what Mom meant when she said "I prayed for patience and received children instead."

The job was decent but frustrating in some ways. Preschool boys aren't experts on bathroom etiquette and it was my job to clean up after them. It takes many many sweeps of a mop to clean up an industrial-strength toilet overflow. When late August came around and college started again, I quit that job so my friend Michelle (the girl singer in our band) could have it. My roommate had a line on a similar job, so we applied together and both ended up working in an afterschool program for elementary school children.

That was more fun, and not just because it was only three hours, not all day. It paid slightly better and the kids were older and more fun — or at least more self-reliant. Besides administering occasional discipline, they actually paid me to play board games and sports, read books, do crafts, and watch movies on Fridays with kids. What fun! Admittedly, the movies were kiddie movies and most don't stand up well to the taste of a 19 year old guy, but it was a decent job.

My school was the poorest in the city and that showed up in the situation of some of the kids. Most only had one parent. Most had to rely on the school to provide meals. Several of the kids accidentally called me Daddy now and then. It's weird to think that I was a significant male role model, considering who I was then and how far I've come since then. It's very weird to think that the youngest of those kids are in high school now and the oldest are in college.

That job lasted throughout the entire school year. I didn't really relish the thought of spending all day with children at that point, however, so I quit graciously at the end of their school year and entered the lucrative world of temporary work.

Temping without significant experience is weird. The flexibility and variety can be nice, but different agencies have different types of jobs, so you have to find the right match. I remember applying with one agency that gave a series of tests on light office work. They told me that I scored off of the charts, especially on the computer skills.

With that agency, I had a few memorable events. I spent a week at Boise-Cascade headquarters, writing a multiple choice test for workers at a box-making factory to certify them on their equipment. That was unique. I spent a week at an agency that matched charitable organizations with wealthy foundations that gave money away, putting together binders full of grant proposals for the annual board meeting. That job was tedious, but the fact that it was on the 17th floor of the 18-story Idaho First building (or whatever it is now, it remains the tallest building in Boise) and had a fantastic view south on Capitol Boulevard to the beautiful train depot made up for it, at least when I could see the window.

I also spent a morning unloading a truck full of dry ice and accidentally drove a hand-powered forklift over my foot. We finished early and they paid me for the full day though. That almost made up for limping for the rest of the week.

Then there was the summer I did some random construction projects and learned just how tired I could be after a full day of work. It was all I could do to take another shower, rinse the ring of dirt, cement dust, and sweat out of the tub, eat some food, and lie down to rest up before going to bed. I did enjoy putting up trusses with the help of a crane on a new home being built in Emmett, though. A family lives now in a house I helped to build.

Even though I've never really used my music degree to land a job, having a degree and proving that I've received an education and worked hard at it is important to me. I didn't use that degree to land my first professional job, but knowing that I have it is a huge relief. I've never worked in fast food or retail, but I have a lot of sympathy for people who do; it's hard work and I feel very fortunate that I've found a job I enjoy and can see myself continuing to do for many years.