Lousy jobs I have had

Most of us had part-time jobs in high school and college. Were they great jobs? No, but they put a few coins in our pockets and gave us a chance to get started in the wild world of adulthood.

At these jobs, we learned the art of cooperation. We learned to kiss-up to our bosses and show up on time. Sometimes, we even mastered uniforms, often stuffing our unruly locks into hairnets to avoid shedding onto the food we were serving.

Many of us endured mundane tasks for hours and hours, working alongside people who had done these jobs for decades. Some of these positions were very arduous, but they were also character-building.

Eventually, I went into the advertising business, which seemed to agree with me. But I look back at my earlier employment stints with fondness and humor.

Here are a few of my gem jobs: 

1970-Cashier-Du-par’s Restaurant-Los Angeles.

I was too stupid to figure out that the best pay for working at a restaurant was to be a waitress. But all I wanted to do was write poetry.

I hated ironing my white uniform and starching my hat and handkerchief. I refused to wear a bra or a slip. I believed free love also pertained to the clothing I wore.

I got the job because my older sister Lynn put in a good word with the manager. If they had known I was a hippie who refused to shave my legs and armpits and enjoyed wearing leopard underwear, I doubt I would have been hired.

1972-Selling Clothes-Studio City, CA.

My brother Jack got me this Christmas job. I wasn’t very good at this, largely because I always preferred to wear tomboy clothes. The store didn’t sell bellbottoms and tie-dyed shirts. It was high fashion for the local elite.

How could I sell clothing when I looked like a drug dealer? Eventually, they figured out I’d be better off upstairs, away from the buying public, putting rivets on jeans. That job lasted only a few days before they decided to unload me. I think I went to the local park afterward and shot baskets.

1973-Sewing Job-Leather Factory-Goleta, CA.

The employment climate was pretty dismal in Santa Barbara, so I worked at a leather factory making purses and wallets for a few months.

Because I was a psychology major, I preferred talking to my coworkers and asking them about their problems. Management did not appreciate my efforts.

I was terrible at sewing, and most of the time, I had to redo the mess of leather goods I’d botched the day before. I had to chew seven pieces of bubble gum just to get through my shift. When I would blow a bubble, it would pop over my face, and I couldn’t see what I was sewing. But I looked at my pile of wallets afterward, and they seemed good enough to me.

As I rode my 10-speed back to my apartment at 11 PM, I hoped the wallets would pass inspection the following day. It wasn’t long before I was laid off from that job as well and collecting unemployment. Thankfully, I took my leather mistakes home for Christmas and pawned them off on my family. So what if the coins fell out of the change purse in that groovy wallet I had sewn?

1974-Physical Guinea Pig-UCSB

I had very little money when attending college, so I became a guinea pig in the biology department. For $5, I would endure probes, wires, and breathing machines as they measured my oxygen intake, heart rate, and other anatomical functions. That five dollars came in handy and enabled me to buy a cheap garment from the local thrift store. Maybe the science department was trying to come up with a new invention to keep students from smoking pot. I’ll never know.

1975-Artistic Model-UCSB

I responded to an ad in a local paper to make some quick money as a model for a local artist. Unfortunately, this didn’t involve posing in front of a classroom of art students. I had to show up at some guy’s house by myself. Not a good scene.

When I got there, I could tell he was creepy. Maybe it was the bathrobe he was wearing. He then asked me to walk around in my cut-off jeans so he could assess my figure. I could see his pupils dilate. Time to make my exit. A few minutes later, I pedaled twelve miles back to my apartment. I’m sure I missed an opportunity of a lifetime.

What were some of your part-time jobs, and what did you learn from them?