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Discussion in 'Bad Dog Cafe' started by mr natural, Nov 11, 2009.
paperboy, then my career prospects skyrocketed when i got a bagboy job at a supermarket.
Cleaned bathrooms at Cedar Point in the camp grounds. To add insult to injury it paid below min wage because we were only "seasonal" help.
Some sort of loop hole they exploited.
I worked all season to save enough money buy a old Nova I had set my sights on, at the end of the year when I had the money my dad wouldn't let me buy it.
I hear you! We never had sprinklers, but me and a buddy moved the neighbor's one summer. Up before day break, and do it again before supper, 7 days a week from June until haying in August. (this on top of working at our place all day) We each made just a little over a hundred and fifty dollars apiece and thought we were rolling in the dough. Oh to be 15 again!
Service station, the summer after high school. $1.15 an hour, I think. It sucked. I loved it. Got fired a week before I was to leave for college, for taking a 2-hour lunch break (lost track of time, I guess,) rolling around on the lawn kissin' with the boss's niece. That was awesome!
Gas station at 15 with work permit. I augmented my salary by selling football parlay cards from a local bookie. I would drop the cards in the lap of the people in their cars while I pumped their gas and cleaned their windows. When they paid me for the gas they also included the card with bet inside. My customers included everyone, even the local police. Never any problems, it was just a way of life in an eastern city, Italian neighborhood.
Ha ha...You are gonna love this one...Beekeeper's assistant...for $3.25/hr.
I would go get a box of honey (110lbs average), carry it to the truck and then repeat...and try not to get stung. After several months of that I could lift anything there was to lift...and yes the stings continue to hurt, even after a few thousand. They just don't swell up anymore except the one up your nose....ooouch that hurt just remembering it.
My first paying job was while I was still in high school: with my then girlfriend's dad, cutting railway sleepers out in the red-gum forest near our small town. Saturdays and Sundays, 5am start. He'd haul in the already felled red-gums with a tractor, we'd mark 'em up and proceed to cuttin' ! Most dangerous part was cutting to length - he'd be on the end of a huge-assed chainsaw while I hammered in the wedges above the blade as it moved downwards through the log:- "steady there son, not too much, ya don't wanna hit the top of the blade with that wedge" . . . !!!
Aahhh, good times.
First real job was when I was still 15, got an apprenticeship in the graphics dept of our local printing co. Was in the print & pre-press industry for 25 years.
... ate alle the grapes...
How is Germany...?
In Simi ...? Just kiddin'
It wasn't exactly my first job, but maybe the second.
I used to load the throwers with clay pigeons at a local shooting range. That was a lot of friggin' fun. Around holidays, they unload not only their rifles and shotguns, but also their pockets full with any change. A lot of cash for back then.
At the rifle range I had to run the boar out on a steel rope, from under the bunker, via electro motor.
I had a military parker which I stuck behind the cardboard boar, for a more authentic look.
I just recalled a summer when the guy who ran the Gas Station around the corner (He's a whole 'nuther story...) got the very bright idea (unheard of before or since in our area) to hire my sister and a friend of hers (very cute hippie chicks in their Senior year of High School at the time) to pump gas... He sold a LOT of gas that summer...
early teens I picked veggies and fruit for one of the local farmers around the Montreal area...he paid us by the bushel/basket...wasn`t much but we were young and money went further then. Strawberry days were my favorites...one for the basket...one for me...all day long. Picking tomatoes ALWAYS led to tomato fights...when the farmer wasn`t around. We`d meet at his house early mornings and he`s drive us to the fields and we spent all day out there...ate lunch outside...man those were great days. Picking tomatoes turns your hands blak after a while...best way to remove that is...washing with a tomato! How many of youse knew that eh?
If you don't count rural kid's chores (watering newly planted fir trees in my dad's forest; weeding, binding vines, and harvesting grapes in the vinyard; helping filling wine bottles - a favorite chore, because we could always sneak a sip or three of the new wine...; chopping firewood, harvesting black currants, apricots, apples, pears, etc.), and helping out as a waiter at my uncle's "Heurigen" (a small type of improvised restaurant, where winemakers sell their own wine and some cold snacks), my first "real" (=paid) job was working at a furniture warehouse all summer to make some money for buying my first electric guitar.