I have officially been working since I was sixteen years old. It was the summer after tenth grade. Like every high school kid, I was selling myself to just about every store up and down the beach.

I had a short stint with Sonic. So short, I nearly never mention it. It certainly never places on my resume. I refuse to bad mouth a place of business so this will be short. In all honesty, it was the only old uniform I could find before press time.

Beach Bum Burgers, a company that no longer exists, is the place that I consider to be my first place of employment. After the failure that was Sonic, Beach Bum Burgers was the one one to call me in for an interview. They hired me on the spot, and wanted me to come in that weekend.

I was over the moon.

I was going to earn money, which was very exciting because I had never been granted an allowance.

My parents used to bribe my sister and I to do chores. We would earn a few dollars if we worked off a set list. I am happy to pretend that non-existent money is being used to pay for my college.

What was not made abundantly clear to me, was what it was I would be doing at this local burger restaurant. I was to walk up and down, on the sidewalk in front of the parking lot, and sign board.

I was a little disappointed that I would not be taking orders at the front.

I never let it show, telling myself that at least I would get a tan this summer. I donned the uniform shirt, which came in such a flimsy material that my female coworkers suggested I wear a matching tank top underneath.

I worked as hard as I could at my job. It did not seem like much, to stand where the heavy traffic could see me, but it had a level of difficulty that required continuous energy in the summer heat. I danced. I spun the sign. I called to people with their windows down. I waved. I cheered every time someone turned into the driveway.

As June turned to July, I was told I would no longer be sign boarding. I was being upgraded to order taker! I was a quick study. I tried to keep my head in the occasional surge. I loved Beach Bums, but like a lot of business around here, it was gone almost as fast as it opened.

I saw the signs.

We struggled.

I remember the shifts spent cleaning and stocking because we had had three customers in five hours. Beach Bum Burgers made it until October. I remember getting the call. I was expecting to hear my schedule for the weekend. I was crushed, because my first job was no more.

The next summer, a new dinner theater opened on the Outer Banks. Let this serve as an advertisement for the Outer Banks Mystery Dinner Theater. My mother, the actress, earned a spot in its debut season. The summer after eleventh grade proved slightly more difficult, when it came to getting a job.

There was currently no business where Beach Bum used to be. Even with my experience, no one wanted me.

Then, I got lucky. The Comfort Inn that hosts the OBX Mystery Dinner found themselves in need of a new dishwasher. I applied for the job and I was hired immediately.

I had washed the dishes at home before, but it does not compare to the dishwashing experience in a professional kitchen. I picked up the job fast. I quickly learned how to best perform the hard job so that I could end the night with least amount of pain caused by awkward and uncomfortable positions.

Like with every job, there was always something I came to loathe. With Beach Bum Burgers that was either rude or messy customers. With the OBX Mystery Dinner Theater, it was the crowds that numbered over fifty. The nights when we peak at one hundred people make me ache at the thought alone.

Yet, every year I return to work because I have to in order to get ahead. I have student loans. In just a few short years, I will be a college graduate. Apparently, that means I have to actually pretend to be a “grown up.”?

Last summer, my parents persuaded me to get a second job. Considering that I was only working 3 days a week, for Comfort Inn, it did not seem like such a bad idea. It still does not. I applied at a local Food Lion. I got the job, but under the condition that I work overnights. I had a bad feeling from the start.

I was in charge of the entire front end from midnight until the morning manager came in at six am. I tended to the only register, while cleaning the front end of the store. I refuse to bad mouth a company, but know that my experience was far from a stay at the Hamptons. I felt like I was never going to be able to show my worth. I wanted to be upgraded to day shifts.

I had an interesting time with alcohol overnight. I do not drink underage, understand. I was told that I was going to see what the Outer Banks nightlife could produce, and those that told me this, were correct. I saw the drunk group of vacationers, who thought it was funny to make a minimum wage worker act as their maid. The same group that likes to argue that their paying too much for everything they check out. The same group that tried to buy alcohol without a proper form of identification.

See, in North Carolina at least, no one is allowed to sell alcohol after 2am (except for on Sunday when it cannot be sold until after noon). I had several run-ins with the people drifting in from various bars. They wanted alcohol. It was after 2am. Luckily, for me, I had only a few instances when a customer got particularly belligerent about that fact. I had more who made unfunny jokes about me setting the clock back on my computer so they could buy the alcohol.

I had a few situations with people who I suspected were buying alcohol for people who were underage. More so when I asked for identification from the whole party, the two youngest females left to get their wallets from the car and never returned. I also had the unfunny joke, usually from people who were obviously over twenty, that they hadn’t been asked for the ID in years. I was new at my job and I had to ID if I thought someone was under forty. Luckily, most of them thought of it as a compliment that they looked much younger than they were.

I also came across a lot of young children, while working overnight. I never asked why but too often the story would be the same. A maternal figure would come into the store for a bit of midnight shopping and she would be toting a young child, not even of school age, who was wide awake and even hyperactive. I once inadvertently babysat a cart full of these youngsters who were abandoned by my till without so much as a by-your-leave. It was quite easy. I did some cleaning and they watched me in silence.

I like working two jobs. It isn’t easy. I never have any free time. But the payout is well worth the risk. I stuck by a strict budget over my first year of college and I still have a good sum of money in my checking account. Considering that I was unable to work over the month of December that was my Winter Break, I consider this a win.

I just got a job with a new, upscale grocery store on the Outer Banks. As I have just been hired, I will let them remain anonymous. I am not sure how much I am allowed to say, so I will keep this brief.

I applied this Monday and I was basically hired by Thursday. I start Monday and I am excited. I love my uniform. I get to go pants shopping, because I need shorts and all my long pants are more geared towards winter. I need to get more capris.

The only capris I have currently are sparkly and definitely inappropriate for a shift at such a high-end grocer. I mention capris because I need pants that go to my knees and below, thus capris.

It is going to be too hot for jeans this summer.