True Story From My First Paying Job

My mom after much badgering talked to the owner of Wimpy's submarine sandwich shop Bellflower, California.  She use to go there quiet often for lunch because the shop was down the road a piece from where she worked, National Lumber. (I can't believe I found their advertising slogan.)

If the owners Paul and Kathy (both Korean born) would hire me; I could walk there after walking my sister home from Mayfair High School at the time I was 15 and she was 13.  In those days it was 'KINDA' safe to walk home but, not always.

So I was hired (1982) to work part time after school which amounted to 30 hours a week at $2.65 -- I was considered wait staff.  My pay was a whopping $62 bucks a week after taxes and that money went straight to my mom.  However, what I remember from the job was the training I was given: sandwich construction, cooking, cash register, stocking, cleaning, dish washing, cleaning, meatball sauce making, handling drunk smart butts on their lunch break, (there was a service window for an attached bar and convenience store), how to make change, inventory, listening to Koren Opera mixed with the bar's juke box, customer service, meat slicing, and on occasions slow - slow days. 

One day after Paul had been particularly cranky; he sat down in one of the 6 booths the place had to give me a break from his constant lectures.  So this customer came up and ordered a sandwich; thus I made the sandwich and was going to accept his payment.  THEN HE HANDED me a fifty dollar bill --- I froze.  I had only ever been trained to handle smaller bills.  I racked my brain trying to figure out what I should do.  I could not make change in my head.

After what felt like a lifetime, Paul came up behind me and told me which bills to give the customer while apologizing to him for my inept service.  Why does this event stick in my mind so clearly?????????????

It was a turning point for myself.  I decided never to be stumped again by figuring things out ahead of time, emergency what ifs planning, on my own even if I had no experience.  Is it any wonder manic depressives, multi personalities, ADD, ADHD, or paranoids exist? I would just SEE THE SOLUTION by flashing out possible outcomes.  While my mother had been tough to live with it was different in public.  Our family squabbles were private however, I decided not to be a failure in front of folks again.  At least not a DEER CAUGHT IN HEADLIGHTS failure because as you know; deer often lose their battle with fear.  Thus, this moment became the birth of Trigger Happy me.

I think this is where I developed my impatience with folks who have to take time to process information before making a decision.  It's an ugly side to me; I am learning to temper with time.  I am not always sucessful but, I recognize my downfall and realize not everyone grew up in an hostile environment.