*snore* They thought they were so witty.
My first real job - a job that provided real paychecks with stubs and FICA and Social Security line items - I took when I was 16. Well, I think I was actually 15 when I started, but don't say anything because it might've been a violation of child labor laws.
Either way, I was a hostess/busgirl at a popular restaurant establishment that was housed inside a popular hotel establishment in my hometown. My job was to seat customers, tell 'em the specials, get 'em water, clean up after 'em, make sure all the waitresses had a fair share of tables, blah, blah, blah. I also received payments and made change back in the day when "I can make change" looked good on an application.
The hotel catered mostly to tourists rather than business travelers as it was the first real stop in Colorado just north of the New Mexico border along the interstate. Plus, my hometown was rather podunk, so who would be there on business?
Other than that, most of our guests at the time were in town for their gender reassignment surgeries, and that's another part of the town's history.
Because of that prime location, the hotel and restaurant were typically very busy and often filled to capacity. Weary travelers would stop, looking to book a room, and be all shocked to find we had no vacancies.
"B-b-b-but... it's just a little podunk town!"
And at the time, the management played the game by decking the place out in full western regalia. As if to say, "Welcome to Colorado! Home of cowboys and cowgirls and nuthin' else!"
As such, a portion of the restaurant, aptly called "the corral", was enclosed in a fricken' horse fence. All us front of house people wore cowboy shirts and denim skirts. We wore bandanas around our necks and had name tags that looked like sheriff badges.
I can't tell you how many times some annoying tourist asked me if I was the sheriff. There was one who got a little creative and instead asked, "Are you the law?", so I always found him a little more endearing than the others... which isn't saying much.
Here is my class picture taken from my cowgirl busgirl era. I remember it because I had to register for school after my shift ended and didn't have time to change my shirt, so my class photo for my Junior year looks like I just came in from the barn.
At least I remembered to remove the bandana and sheriff badge and fluff my Farrah hair.
We were actually located outside the city limits, so when we did have to invoke the law, it was indeed the sheriff we called. A couple times I remember had to do with drunk guys getting in bar fights and a weird couple getting naked in the pool and brandishing a hand gun.
Omigosh, it really was the wild west.
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Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
5. Tell us about one of your very first jobs.
13 comments:
OMG Abby, I mean Sheriff, what a great story. I worked at steak house of sorts not a great one mind you, when I had that same hair and I swear the same shirt. It was called Ponderosa. So you can imagine the plaid shirt and western theme. Thankfully I didn't wear a name tag like a sheriff badge though. And never dealt with naked people with guns. Well, at least not at that job when I was 16. :-)
Peg, I remember Ponderosa, the steak house! And I can clearly imagine the getup you had to wear to work there!
Those sheriff name tags became the bane of our existence, but we had to wear them or our bosses had some consequence - like charging us a dollar or something. Plus, they had heaps of them in storage, so might as well just slap it on and deal with it.
Management needed to build more units, I think.
Cute picture....
That sounds like a fun job! I would get annoyed by the Sheriff comment also and probably have something smart to say after a while. :)
John, there were other hotels nearby, but we had the law on our side ;)
Morgan, one coworker just replied with a deadpan, "no" to the sheriff question. We all followed that lead. Satisfying.
Any kind of service/retail work comes with its own interesting set of challenging customers. And yes, I can remember when counting back change was a real thing.
Herb, very true. Seems like anytime I've had to work with "the public" the best part of the job is the customers. The worst part of the job is the customers.
Actually the cowboy attire actually sounds cute, though I understand how people get hooked on making what they think is a uniquely witty remark, but you're tired of it because you've heard it so many times. I used to be a medic and take blood pressures and my hands were cold, so people would constantly say, "cold hands, warm heart."
Feel like I may have entered a time warp myself. I miss this world. I see you’re still at it going strong. Kudos and ...hey!!!!
You looked adorable. I want to know more about the gender reassignment tales that you're implying here. That must've been something back in the day.
Madamdreamweaver, and if you pay for something with fresh bills that stick together, don't say, "Yep, just made 'em this morning!" They've heard it.
Beej, Beej? Beej?! Is it really you??
Linda, thanks on the "adorable", it was loooooong time ago.
My hometown once had the title of "sex change capital of the world". With it being a small town, trans patients made up a good percentage of people present on most given days.
You had the perfect Farrah hair, it never should have been contained by a bandana in the first place!
Your sheriff pic looks like it coulda been me back in the day. Great Farrah hair, I must say!
I understand about podunk towns being very busy with tourists. In Joplin, our hotel was often sold out, especially during the week. Walk-in guests would say, “but it’s Tuesday! In Joplin! What’s going on?” We were just in a prime location for people to stop off on their way to much bigger, more happening towns. We were missing the corral, however. Shame....
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