What was your first job?

At 15, I worked at a dry cleaners and laundry in Columbia Heights. Cleaned the washing machines; washed, dried and folded personal laundry; cleaned the building; helped customers; ate too many snacks from the vending machine. Eventually graduated to dry cleaning clothes. School, sports and a job. Oh, for my youth of 1975!

Ditto to Rich: I was a newspaper foot carrier all through high school & college, 7 days a week, 365 days a year, twice a day (except Sundays). Back then, they dropped the papers off at the corner, and foot carriers picked up the bundle and delivered to subscribers’ homes. The carrier collected money from the subscribers, and received a bill from the paper. Our pay was the profit between the subscriber’s subscription price and what we payed the newspaper (a nickle a copy on weekdays; 12 cents for Sunday–the Sunday copy was larger). Nowadays, that isn’t possible simply because of the size of the paper: a typical weekday paper today is equal in size to the Sunday paper back then, and yet the actual news content is less.

My first paying job was in 1992. I was a dog grooming assistant for my sister who had recently purchased a dog grooming business from the original owner. She had a well-established clientele, but needed a bit of help keeping up, so she gave me a job helping out.

I would clip nails, brush/comb, bathe, and dry the dogs & she would do the finishing touches.

I made $2.00 a dog (not a particularly great wage considering even small dogs would fetch at least $30 at that time), but I was happy for the extra money & I learned how to do something a lot people are not terribly confident doing…

Now that I think about it, I have never had to take any of my pets to a groomer as a result of my job as a grooming assistant. I guess my mere $2.00/dog has saved me a ton of money throughout my life.

Thanks, sis!

Age 12, delivering the afternoon Minneapolis Star and Sunday Minneapolis Tribune.

What a racket they had going back then. Making kids collect the money and be responsible for slow payers.

At age 15 I was working construction full-time, and coaching youth baseball in the West-Central region of Minnesota. They were very formative years of my life that helped me observe a variety of interests in rural Minnesota life, from the typical working-persons life, to the development of youth, and the importance of rural community and family necessarily intertwined.

I sold women’s accessories at the Southdale Donaldson’s in the mid-80s. Mostly purses and pantyhose, but there was also a huge display of jelly shoes that constantly needed sorting. And they had a glove counter with cotton, crocheted, and silk gloves.

Although we were born in separate States/Cities, and nearly 10 years apart, both, my Wife and Myself were Corn Tassle pickers as our first job.

Destiny I Tell You.

I started babysitting around age 12 for the neighbor kids. At 15, I got a job working at a grocery store bagging groceries and eventually moved up to a cashier and did that throughout the remainder of high school. Also worked as a softball umpire in the summers for the local park and rec league. Its too bad to hear teens are having a hard time finding jobs now because it was all good experience for me as a teenager

Aside from odd jobs in my mom’s pottery studio, my first “real job” was as a grill jockey at the Durango, CO, dairy queen.

Another newspaper boy here. At the age of 11 during the winter of 1963-64, I delivered the Minneapolis Tribune. I remember that winter as brutally cold and snowy. I have to be honest that when collecting, I usually ate up my profits in apple turnovers purchased at the local Dell. A winter of getting up every morning at 4:45 a.m. was enough to convince me that journalism has its pitfalls as a career choice. I did enjoy using my paper-bag as a sled. On the shortcut on my route my “sled” would would zoom me to bottom of a sliding hill. Of course, I then had to climb this same hill. Choosing the wrong path up the frozen hill had it’s own logical consequence. “Oh no, not again!”

I too was a newspaper deliver boy, but only for about 3-4 months. Fortunately it was in the mid 80s and I didn’t have to collect money from people. All I remember about that job is often getting shorted on papers, or my route manager not letting me know about changes in subscriptions. He was the first super lazy boss I ever had. Anyway I saved all my money from that job and bought a 12 speed road racing bicycle which lead to a much better and fun job at a bike shop. Thirty-five years later I still sometimes daydream about opening a bike shop while I sit here in front of my computer with another way to short deadline. If the price of gas keeps going up I just might.

At 15 I started working for the Dairy Queen in my hometown for $1.65/hour. It was the early 70’s and only girls were hired. Our uniforms consisted of very short, white dresses (nursing uniforms) with red smocks.

I was raised on a Farm, so my first job was the old 5:00 am – 7:00 pm 7 days a week one, doing all kinds of terrible work from age 7-18. School was my only time off, so surprise surprise I stayed in school until I was 25.

Only later did I find out my parents intended on making our lives on the farm hard so we all got super educated…It worked like a charm and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

My first job was a summer gig as a grocery clerk in a mom and pop store on Madeline island.

First paying job was mowing my next-door neighbor’s lawn. I think I was 9 or 10 when I started that. First “real” job was cashier at the old St. Anthony Fun Center arcade when I was 16.

Babysitting my younger siblings, and later a few neighbor kids. It was unusual for a boy back then, but it was good experience. It taught me that work isn’t just about getting paid, but doing something worthwhile that actually helps others.

Worked for a newspaper delivering papers every Tuesday night. I was 10 yrs old and I got fired 🙁 Missed too many houses and happy to say that was the only job I ever got fired from!

Picking rocks on my uncle’s farm near Spring Hill, Minnesota. Since that experience, I’ve approached mowing lawn and raking leaves as pleasurable experiences.

I was a Good Humor Man in a neighborhood near where I grew up in the Bronx. I pedaled a 3-wheeled bike with the freezer box forward — filled with dry-ice cooled Good Humor bars and cups.

I was the low guy on the summer totem-pole and was given a crummy route in a poor neighborhood. “Mister, can I have a Good Humor, please …?” –meaning for free. Well, the ice cream was frozen and hard, but my heart was warm and soft.

Didn’t earn all that much that summer. On the other hand I did put on some weight — those fudge bars were hard to resist.

I still have my Good Humor Man badge. No need to sport it, I’ve always been a good humored man

At age 12, a paper route. I don’t miss getting up at 4:30 in the morning to cart around a stack of papers that weighed more than me in minus 20 degree weather. But it taught me the value of an earned dollar and established a work ethic I still have today.

My first job was repairing text books with my best friend in an attic cubby of our very old high school in Ashland, Wisconsin. Her mother was a librarian there, and got us the “job.” We spent lots of time leaning out of the window smoking.

She saw us and often tried to sneak up the stairs to catch us, but the highly varnished wood floors creaked so we were forewarned every time.

Bagging groceries at the old Jewel Food Store for $1.00 per hour, after school and Saturdays. (Most stores weren’t open on Sundays back then!

My first real job was making copies for a trucking company. I made minimum wage: $4.25 an hour. Eight years later, I got my first real teaching job. I worked 6 days a week, 12 hours a day, and had 175 students. I think I made minimum wage on that job, too.