First Job Mess-Ups

I didn't expect to relive a long forgotten moment in my life because of a trip to Sonic. I was just trying to buy lunch. It should have been an easy thing. After all, I knew exactly what I wanted to order.

Unfortunately, the voice on the other end of the big red button was not being cooperative. She kept repeating back my order incorrectly. And I kept correcting her. Then she would read it back another time...still incorrectly. It seriously took 15 minutes to order 5 kids meals and 2 combos.

15 minutes later she brought out the food. She looked like she was 17. She had that happy innocence associated with a first job. She was smiling and cheerful.

She also forgot the burger and chili cheese coney that went with my two combos. Before I realized it, she had skipped back inside. So I pushed the button again, and eventually my entire order was delivered.

Watching her apologize and walk back in to the store...I remembered something...something I'd buried in the catalogs of my memory.

My first real job.

I was working in an office for a non-profit agency creating hard copy back-up files from a computer.

Nothing you can mess up there right? It's just click and print. Click and print. Click and print. Click and single-handedly bring down a charity organization.

Oops.

I somehow managed to cause every printer in the office to start spitting out paper with weird characters on it. I remember standing in the middle of the office while people were running around shutting down printers to try to stop the madness. My boss kept looking at me and sighing.

I had tears running down my face.

One of the other office personnel squeezed my shoulder and said, "Someday, you'll laugh about this. You'll tell your kids about your first job and you'll laugh. Everybody has had a first job."

Then she told me about getting a job as a book-shelver at the library in her hometown. She was 16. On her first day she got her arm stuck in the book deposit slot. The fire department and town doctor were called in. They got her out, but not before her cousin who was working for the town's newspaper got a shot of her and the fireman trying to get her arm out of the slot. It ran the next day as the front page.

I remembered how much I loved her for telling me that story.

And in my heart I had some compassion for the skipping carhop and the memories she was sure to create.

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