Nancy Franson, who blogs at the delightful Out of My Alleged Mind, recently reflected on a job she had as a teenager.
It was at a pizza joint, and it was definitely without glamor. The back room was kept at such a high heat that the employees baked, along with the pies. The owner mainly sat in a corner and chain-smoked, glowering at his employees and barking out orders in Greek. It wasn’t fun. She had poor training, zero prospects and harsh expectations.
Honestly, it’s typical. Most of us who started at the bottom of the rung realized why it’s called that. My first job was cleaning outdoor toilets at a youth camp. I wasn’t enamored with the work, especially when young campers were frolicking at the lake, swimming at the beach and laughing while I stood with a brush and sack full of pine needles I had fished out of the drain.
Later Nancy trained her replacement and made sure that this girl had better preparation and information. And I’m sure that included the “surprise in the freezer.” You’ll have to read Summertime Living for all the details.
Post by David Rupert