What might be your fondest memory of your very first job?

My dad owned many rental properties and I would work for him (painting and lawn work) This started about the age of 11 or so.
It kept me busy and I made some $. He was a good boss :)

My first paycheck. It was for $87. From Sonic.

Working at a gas station, looking up skirts and down blouses.

I worked at a restaurant, and a lot of my friends, including my best friend, also worked there. Our bosses appreciated our hard, conscientious work, something that later bosses didn’t give a damn about.

I would stay up all night , munching on Dominos pizza,
waiting for my newspapers to be dropped off at 3am, so that those who worked early could read the paper. I got $20 tips for doing that. Made $400 or more per month as a teenager.

Well I was a shampoo girl at a salon. My most fondest memory was when my boyfriend would come get me afterwards. I know, nothing to do with the job, I don’t have really “fond” memories. But I did get excited knowing my newly found boyfriend would be coming to get me. I was 16 and it made me feel special.

12–16 I worked at the fairgrounds in concessions. My favorite memory is mastering counting back change, I got it quickly. Felt so proud for helping my mom with my paycheck.

My first jobs were babysitting, which were all forgettable. My first real job was teaching skiing. Everything about that was a blast!

Having a good reason to move away from home

My first job was unloading boxcars full of lumber

My memories are splinters, oppressive heat and sawdust in my nose- none of them fond.

@josie A fond memory might be the fact you were gettiing hard earned ca$h.

Whe I was a kid, I had a paper route. I consider is a violation of child labor laws. It was back breaking work, but i did get in the habit of reading the paper.

@ucme
True that

My first real job was a valet car parker at a restaurant. I got to drive every sort of car, from Rolls Royce’s and Ferrari’s to VW bugs and Dodge Darts. It was a complimentary service of the restaurant. We got paid by pooling tips and getting $3 an hour cash when minimum wage was $1.65.

I got a paper route as soon as I turned twelve.
I was responsible for making collections. I was required to get a bank account. They had an agreement with a specific bank. I deposited the money there, then wrote a check to the paper office.a anything left over was mine. I had to get a social security card, open the account, and write a check each month. The bank gave me a free zippered bag to keep the cash in.
I felt grown up with all those business aspects. When I got my first tip I was confused. Until then, I thought tips were just for waitresses. When I learned it was a regular thing, I was so excited. At Christmas, my tips were quite a bit more than my usual monthly take.
I loved many things about that first job. Every month on the day I wrote that check, I would get a dollar’s worth of pennies. I gave one roll to my best friend. We would go to Osco, because they had a generous gumball machine that would drop three to six items for each penny, and was full of really cool rings, along with the gum. We would take turns spinning pennies into that thing and shrieking at the booty.
Right behind me was a rack with the latest of my favorite comics; Hot Stuff, Lulu, Richie Rich, Archie. Across the street was the town’s only movie theater. I saw Benji there, and Herbie The Lovebug, Tommy, Jaws, and probably a couple of Disney animated features.
We moved after a year in that town.
Twelve was awesome
Thirteen sucked.

I’m enjoying the best moment of my job right now. The money is good enough, the work isn’t too demanding, the work environment is great.

Before that it was hell. I was at one department where the culture was extremely toxic. I couldn’t talk to anyone and became a shut-in. I was then moved to my current department, but then I met a toxic boss who drained me emotionally.

At least I made friends with one student back then :)

My aunt worked at an exclusive department store downtown. My first job was working there during the Holidays and Summer. Every sale produced a sales slip that was put into a box. My job was to continually walk from register to register (there were a bunch spread over about five floors) collecting the slips and taking them upstairs to the office manager. It was fun and everyone knew me (because I circulated). They also had a vacuum tube system but did not use for sales slips; they only used it to credit requests and approvals (as I recall). I was young and it was good experience. When we left at 6PM we had to walk through security people and let them look into our purses and any bags we were carrying. I didn’t like that.

Age 13 babysitting all year round until age 17 where I took a job as a counter clerk ( ice cream and milkshakes and hot dogs).
Liked both as the families that I babysat for paid well and so did the job.
Used the money earned for my school supplies and clothes .

My mom owned a restaurant so I was a dishwasher for starters. She trained me on the grill so I became a master at that. I tried my hand at waiting tables but didn’t have the cute hair or butt for it so I didn’t make many tips.

My first actual job in the real world was at KFC. Slipping and sliding all over the greasy floors. I once busted my ass and we all laughed. I ate so much free take-home chicken and biscuits.

Quiting.

This is gonna sound pervy but what can I do, it’s true… My very first actual job (age 14) was working catering (fancy term for serving heated up food and drinks) at a local amusement park. Well, sometimes very pretty young ladies would come by fresh from the pool wearing bikinis. My fondest memory from that otherwise awful job was serving those upstanding young women the soda pop of their choice.

Pouring out a drink for 14-year-old me. Here’s to you, kid. Keep your head up.

@lucillelucillelucille my son had a paper route. After about a year he got tired of it and wanted to quit. They told him he had to put it in writing. He worked on that quit letter long and hard, even asking me how to spell a few words here and there (because he was horrible at spelling.) Then he brought the final draft to me. It read:
“Dear Sir.
I quit.
Sined, Chris.”

My first job was for a friend’s dad who was a self-employed mechanical engineer. He taught me drafting and that was what I did. That was before Autocad and computers were really still a few years away from being the norm. On breaks we would play pinochle.