First Jobs & Thick Skin - Story #6/52

When I tell my grandkids about the “good old days” I don’t think they believe a lot of the things I tell them. It’s not that they assume I’m making things up but more that they have no point of reference for what I’m telling them. Childhood in the 60’s and 70's was much different than it is now. In a way, it seems that we grew up much faster than they do now yet, somehow, we still managed to pack a lot of childhood fun into that shorter time frame. Then, as now, our formative years were guided by our parents and parents back then didn’t have much time (or desire, it seemed) to spend nurturing us beyond the basics of food, clothes, a bed to sleep in, and making sure we got an education. Not to say our parents were bad or lazy, they just raised us in much the same way as they were raised. Children were to “be seen and not heard”, as the old saying goes, so we were expected to do our chores and then go away and amuse ourselves. We learned to be self-sufficient whether we wanted to or not.

In our family, there was no extra money for unnecessary things or random gifts. We considered ourselves fortunate to have decent clothes and three meals a day. If we wanted something bad enough we were expected to earn our own money to buy it. Babysitting was one way to earn extra money and, at twenty-five cents an hour (fifty cents after midnight), it took a lot of babysitting to save up enough for much of anything. Although I was always in charge of looking after my younger sister and brother I don’t remember exactly how old I was before I started babysitting for others - about eleven I think - and I continued to babysit until I was at least sixteen or seventeen. Looking after other people’s children wasn’t always my idea of “fun” but it was always available and a steady gig to keep some spending money in my pocket.

The first real job I had was as a waitress when I was about thirteen. Apparently, the labor laws were different then as I don’t imagine that would be allowed now but, my aunt and uncle owned a restaurant in a small town in B.C. called Valemont and I guess they were in need of another waitress for the summer. I remember staying in a small cabin with an older girl and I felt very grown-up. My shifts ranged from early mornings - 6 a.m. or so - to closing and, being that Valemont was situated on the Yellowhead Highway it was a busy little place with a lot of truckers as customers. I learned to make coffee, take orders, clean up, do dishes and, I had my first experiences with customer service. Now, for anyone who’s worked in retail or as a waitress/server, you’ll understand how challenging this can be. Most customers are wonderful. They’re patient if it’s busy and the service is a bit slow. They’ll forgive you if the cook mixes up their order. There are always those few, however, who, no matter the circumstances, are demanding, impatient and downright rude.

I was a conscientious server and took pride in doing my job as well as I possibly could but I was also very shy and timid and, to my consternation, I blushed very easily. With many of our customers being truckers, I was an easy target for their teasing. I remember very clearly, one early morning breakfast shift, these two guys came in. At thirteen I was intimidated by men, in general, and prayed one of the other waitresses would take their orders but, it was busy and I had no choice but to approach these guys. Holding my order pad and pencil, I smiled and asked what they’d like. The first guy wanted the breakfast special. No problem. That was easy. I wrote it down and looked expectantly at the second guy. He smiled and asked my name. I blushed and told him. Then, he grinned and said, “I’ll have one waitress on toast. No topping.” What??

I had started to write down his order when it dawned on me what he’d said. I felt the blood rush to my face as I dropped my head and wished I could disappear. I was so embarrassed and had no idea how to respond to such a crude comment. The trucker and his partner both laughed loudly, clearly amused by my discomfort. I’ve never forgotten my embarrassment nor the audacity of a grown man to speak to a young girl that way. Today, that would be considered abuse but, as I’ve said, times were different back then and I got through it - one of the first of many life situations I would have to learn how to deal with.

I went on to be a waitress at the Midale Hotel restaurant where I not only took the orders, but also cooked the meals, collected the money, did the dishes, cleaned the kitchen and closed up at the end of the day. When I reached the legal drinking age of eighteen, I also worked at the Midale Bar which was actually a lot of fun. It was through these work experiences that I learned how to “banter” with people, how to deal with unruly types, and how to not take everything so personally. Those early jobs helped me develop a thicker skin and it served me well over the years. Another bonus was it often earned me bigger tips which were most appreciated.

It’s too bad that the young people today get very few opportunities to have after-school or weekend jobs. Often, their first job is the one they get after graduation and they’re woefully unprepared for the realities of dealing with customers or tough situations that come up. I’m thankful I had to work at an early age. It wasn’t always easy, but quitting wasn’t an option because I really needed the money, and I learned far more from those experiences than I ever could have in school.