DISCLAIMER: Oh you guys. I am so balls to the wall right now, but I really want to do Scintilla, because I love Scintilla and the awesome people associated with it, so I’m really sorry if my responses aren’t amazing. I’m just a girl who can’t say no, etc. etc.Anyway, without further ado, here is the first prompt I will answer:
Tell a story set at your first job.I am not sure if this means a fictional story set at my first job, but I first read it as “tell a story about your first job,” so that’s what I’m going to do.
My very first paying non-babysitting job was at an after-school latchkey program. Now, many of you who read this blog know me as a mature, late-30-something mom. OK, not mature. But the other two things are true. So you probably figure that I have always loved kids, right? False. The truth is, I didn’t even want to have a kid of my own until I was in my early 30s, and my interest in children in general was negative zero when I was 15.Even now I would say I am a huge fan of my OWN kid, not all kids in general.
No, children were not my focus when I was a sophomore in high school. My friends, however, were. And a few of my friends were working for this program, so I took my giant-80s-hair-and-acid-washed-jean-jacket-wearing self down to the YMCA and managed to get myself a job.I mean, the kids were OK, I guess, but what I remember most is goofing off with my pals. After school and before we needed to be at work, we would go to the pharmacy nearby that also had a food counter and get hot dogs and fries for second lunch (ah, I miss that high school metabolism), gossip about everyone and everything, and spend our hard-earned money at the mall or movies on Friday nights.
The job was mostly terrible (remember – I had no fondness for watching children, which was, you know, THE JOB), but I miss those times when working a couple of hours after school bought us a little taste of independence and freedom (well, freedom to buy the latest Poison, Motley Crue or Guns n’ Roses tape. Yes, TAPE. And candy. And concert tickets. And cheap-ass neon t-shirts from Rave. Does anyone remember Rave? Probably not.)When I pick Jane up at her after-school program and I see the high school kids who are part of the staff, I sometimes think of that old job – and secretly hope they like kids just a little bit more than I did.