Tell You Thursday: My very first job, what I learned, and why lunch doesn't always mean food.

I have been to many “going away” parties, although they are usually bittersweet for someone who has been laid off.   However, I’ve never been to a retirement party.  Up until my current job, I was never at one place long enough, nor was I high enough up the chain for that to even be a consideration.  But last night, I attended my first.  Working at the same company for just over 37 years, a guy named Rick will have his last official day tomorrow.  Rick hired me 10 years ago, with the company I still work for, but under a job title I haven’t been assigned in 9 years.  I moved on in different ways, although our paths cross every so often.  I didn’t hesitate to accept the invitation, but initially was at a loss for words for sending my congratulations.  I mean what do you say to someone you only see during work hours, knowing they are starting a totally different, hopefully prosperous next phase of life.  It’s kinda monumental to feel you have to say something poignant.  When I saw him last night, in a suit (which he never wears,) my first thought was lordy, that will not be me.

This Timely Thursday isn’t about the retirement party or my new career goals  – that will come another time.  But seeing him recount a 37 year legacy got me thinking all the way back to my first job in (I think) 1997.   I have a 17 year mixed bag in how I've supported myself.  In that time I've only held one crappy job, which was more due to management not the position.  Although I did try getting hired where my friends were working their lame jobs, because SOMEONE WOULD PAY ME FOR THAT?!  But things didn't happen that way.

Our high school had a program that allowed Juniors and Seniors the opportunity to only attend four morning classes, leaving at lunch, as long as we were enrolled in a college class or had a job.  Gah those last two years would have dragged on...  I initially took classes at the jr. collge such as business English and basic accounting, but decided those don't put green in the bank.  I was ready to get a job!  I started my search for either an intern position (which also worked) or my first paid gig.  I didn't know what kind of job I wanted or really how to go about it.  But I put on my best ill-fitting clothes anyway and awkwardly went to local shops.  I do not miss for one second that feeling of being a goofy teenager, going place to place asking for job applications.  I hated trying to convince the manager I was a hard worker, who is nice and very willing to learn.  Not that I was lying, but I was shy in those situations so it was very hard getting over that fear.  One afternoon I ended up in a bookstore, inside an outlet mall, far from everything.  The books weren't used but it was where all the unsellables went after Barnes & Noble was done with them.  I figured I like reading, so what the hell.

I walked in and found the assistant manager behind the counter, all smiles.  That put me at ease.  I stated my business, he handed me an application and I got the pen working.  We chatted and seemed to hit it off.  I can't remember if he gave the good news then or called me the next day after speaking with the manager, but the internship was mine!!  The job was basic and the store wasn't very busy, so the manager & assistant guys taught me proper customer service skills, gave me a couple of responsibilities and organizational tasks.  I learned how to refill my first fax machine, which only used purple thermal paper; it luckily it never received any but prior faxes still got your hands messy.  The guys were fun and it felt swell knowing I was doing a good job.  When it was Christmas time they offered me a seasonal help position!  I think I was paid $3.25 an hour, or something marginal... but it was mine!  Immediately I imagined how grand that first paycheck would be.  I went one day after school, on my day off, and the assistant manager handed it to me.  The working class equivalent of a golden ticket.  It was gonna be so much money, I couldn't miss the opportunity to go shopping!  I headed to Target, stood outside, and opened the check.  For all this time I dopely forgot oh it's a check, I must deposit first before I can spend it.  But oh well, I was here!  I'll use my credit card and repay "with my check!"  I felt so grown-up at that moment.  Cymbols crashed clumsily when that $23.xx amount reflected back to me.  wonk.

Because of the holidays, I was working most Saturdays.  The manager's girlfriend would stop by who I'd never seen during the week.  She usually had a small picnic basket with her, head straight to the back, while he always said "Oh honey, you brought me lunch."  His delivery had a twinge of sarcasm, but I never thought much of it.  I found out a year later she had been lovingly delivering him boat loads of weed.  What the?!? Apparently he had been keeping hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of plants that were seized by the feds.

So as Rick reflected his transition from working dude to retired dude, I reflected on my initiation into the work force.  The education, the experience, feeling like I was making a difference... the free books... and the disappointment of taxes.  I don't think the position afforded my anything that I wouldn't later re-learn, but it was a positive experience overall.

p.s. I don't remember what I bought at Target, but during those days I could have probably purchased the whole store.  It wasn't hip then.