My first job was a paperboy at 14. Obviously, making a career out of that is not only ridiculous, but in this day and age, unsustainable. But you know, I had my money to pump into the pinball machines at arcades. Those were good times.
Now (at 51) I work in a braindead factory job. It's miserable, but it pays too much to quit. I'll likely retire from there.....one way or another. But I got my money for my video pinball, so I'm good.
First job was an ice cream shop. A good chunk of our clientele were were the nuns from the convent down the street. They were challenging customers. They were fussy about their scoops and traveled in packs so I was always outnumbered and often alone when they swarmed into the shoppe. I had long hair and they nipped at me constantly about getting a haircut. I lasted about two weeks before I gave notice. The nuns and the sickening smell of frying waffle cones drove me out. Had to make those every morning. Still can’t stomach that odor.
For the past 19 years I’ve worked at a newspaper as an illustrator and graphic designer.