Working for a living: paperboy

Since I've been on the job hunt of late looking for a solid gig in the publishing world, I've been thinking back to all the ridiculous jobs I've had over the years. From cleaning up after a butcher to Insurance Property Adjuster, I've done lots of junk. I've been working some kind of job since age 13 and though I'd prefer to be a couch tester, you know, jobs pay the bills & stuff. In honor of that 1/3rd of your waking hours, share your ridiculous job stories in the comments below.

And if you need a writer / editor, or a clown to come entertain at your child's next birthday, look me up on LinkedIn and let's talk.

Numero uno es Paperboy.....

My first job was a paper route. I was thirteen and I worked the route till I was sixteen. My being hired for the route came at a good time and served nicely as a ready made excuse for not having to play football. I tried out for the team, I discovered that football sucked, being tackled hurt, and I saved face having to commit to something else that was a time conflict.

I'd inherited the route from a smart-alec, bullying preachers kid from up the street who, when we were little, used to throw rocks when we were playing in the culdesac. Yeah, that kid.

My buddy Jim wanted the route too so we agreed to split the responsibilities down the middle. We raked in a whopping $48 each month in profits (per) which was, in rote teenage fashion, systematically blown on 7-11 nachos, big gulps, video games, punk rock cassettes and skateboard accessories.

I'd usually do my portion of the route on my skateboard if the weather was ok. The weight of the shoulder bag I carried the papers in made for awkward skating but it helped me develop an unshakable balance on my board.

There were a few drawbacks to the route, though, which included newspapery smelling, stained hands and evening deliveries. On weekdays I frequently had to bail on my friends mid hangout sesh to get the route done on time.

On summer weekends, I'd sneak out of the house at about 2 am (right when the papers were delivered to the pickup station outside our house) to get the route out of the way so that I could sleep in late. After I finished the delivery rounds I'd often go skate by myself till the wee hours. There's nothing like having a strip mall parking lot to yourself at 3:30 am. I didn't have to worry about weaving in and out of cars or getting yelled at by shop owners. It was just me, the sound of hard, urethane wheels on the pavement, the occasional automatic sprinkler system in the lot planters, and my thoughts.

What are your first job memories? Share in the comments!