Friday, December 5

How I got my first job!

It's fun to think back to those awkward days when I was just a brace-faced teenager. We all remember the excitement of getting our first job, and the thrilling prospects of making our own money. Unfortunately, I didn't get the first job I applied for. But going after it gave me my very first opportunity to stand up to tyranny!

I was intially full of confidence, because three of the other girls from my high school bowling team had already been hired at this one bar & grill. The owner, who resembled John Leguizamo's character from the movie Spawn, was notorious for only hiring cute teenage girls for the waitress positions. So I put on my demure little prairie girl dress and skipped on in there to see if I could seduce him out of a part-time position!

I walked in, found the man, and didn't get two sentences into my spiel before he took me aside and explained that I wasn't even fit to charm the customers who showed up on "all-you-can-eat pickled egg night". He also said that my wolfy looking legs didn't help, and neither did the dark red hair above my lip. As he escorted me to the front door, he told me to maybe come back in a couple years when I'd, "stopped dressing like an Amish retard".

So my first teenage job was to send this motherfucker's life crashing down all around him! Over the course of the next month I called his wife anonymously, every three days, to coyly insinuate that there was something about her husband that she didn't know. His pale, chubby daughter happened to be a freshman at my high school, so I spread a rumor about her having Hepatitis C. The nickname "Hepatitis Girl" managed to follow her all the way through community college!

The final phase of my retribution was a master stroke! That Boss "Hogg" bastard drove an immaculate white Cadillac, with pristine all-white leather interior. One night I took the metal bucket full of cigarette butts and chewing tobacco spit that the kitchen staff kept by the back door of the restaurant, and I set it up in the back seat of his car. As he drove himself home that night the bucket rocked back and forth, until it eventually tipped over and dumped it's payload all over the seats!

Finally, towards the middle of the summer, I secured my first paying job. My uncle managed the service garage for one of the major dealerships in town, and he hired me on. It was a sweet job, flirting with the greasy mechanics, and accepting payments from customers for the Service and Parts department. It was also hilarious, because we would rip the customers off big time! Some customers would bitch, some would cry, and some would just quietly pay while secretly fighing back a world of rage! I can't say that I blamed them. $70 to glue a rear view mirror back on is some bullshit!

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Girl this is what I'm talking about! What's wrong with a woman going au natural?!

Anonymous said...

Sold Fuller Brush door-to-door at 15. Supposed to be 16 but I lied about the age.

Back in the late 1960s when many females were stay-at-home housewives, not in the "normal" workforce of today that depopulates neighborhoods.

Average $15 pr hour, excellent money back then. Better than many adults of that era. Only 4 hours daily or I would have out-earned the old man.

Sure learned a lot. Especially about wimmenfolk. Lonely gals. Who gazed with longing at a young lithe trim handsome YOUNG Adonis alone with them inside their home.

I sure sold a LOT of the moisturizing body lotion. Seldom sold more than one jar, though, despite the discount for two.

Gals sure used it up quick!!!

Always left a catalog with my name and phone number upon it.

Typically, at the homes where I demonstrated the lotion via an application to neck or arms or bared legs, I was back within days obtaining a new order.

Strange. I could take orders over the phone but those gals wanted another demonstration.

Sure learned a LOT from that job.

Boss wondered why I covered so little territory during my four hours but understood when I told of having to perform so many demonstrations.

She couldn't complain about my amount of sales, however.

Tooth Fairy said...

Dear Jocelyn,
For the 100th time I do not give money for lost teeth to people above the age of 10. Please take back your disgusting tooth and put it back into your mouth. You are frightening all the children with your nasty gap.

Yours truly,

The Tooth Fairy.