Your First Job

My daughter starts her first job this afternoon at the grocery story down the street. I’ll drive her down, drop her off, and beam with pride that this day has come.

I remember my first job and the feeling that I was becoming larger than I was somehow; I rose up to what the boss required. I became a different person than just a daughter or student. I was an employee. 

At fourteen, with my work permit in hand, I became an employee serving ice cream at Mount Vernon. Then I worked at Staples after school and on the weekends until my second year of college. I loved it. I loved punching my time card, meetings all the employees, and working so hard to sell fountain pens back in the 90’s. Sometimes, I blocked aisles, worked with the stock boys, or cleaned the break room. I would converse with the cashiers all about their lives on slow afternoons.

I loved those teenage jobs so much!

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