A goal of mine in recovery is to never be fired again.
Nearly every job I’ve had since I was 15 years old has resulted in my
termination due to theft, noncompliance, general malfeasance, or sometimes I would
simply never show up again. In this post, I am going to attempt to recall every
job I’ve ever had, followed by a brief description of why I no longer work
there. This could be interesting, and it could drum up some material for future
posts. So, here we go!
15 years old, Miami Subs on the corner of Snelling and
University in St. Paul. It was my first job, and I loved working there. I didn’t
have a taste for theft yet, so I earned my money the hard way. It was Summer
time and my friend Nathan and I were given the opportunity to work as many
hours as possible, which we did. Suddenly, the owners came to us one night and
asked us to work overnight closing down the restaurant and loading all of the
equipment onto a van. It was over after a few short months, but we came back a
few nights later, broke in and stole all of the cigarettes from the vending
machine (they had those back in the 1900’s) and committed several acts of
vandalism. Next!
Shortly after that, Nathan and I were offered jobs at Burger
King on Fry and University, also in St. Paul. I would be there for a long time.
I worked there through the trial phase of many drugs, including acid which I
somehow managed to do during many shifts there. I recall that my job usually
entailed being the order taker at the drive through which was expedited through
a speaker box mounted on the wall. I can see the colours pouring out of it now
along with the distorted voices expressing their thoughts on condiments and
choice of beverage. More than a few times I couldn’t take it and burst out
laughing. My coworker was clueless and I’m sure put it off in his mind as
business ensued. The two main bosses both smoked pot and we got along just
fine. Slowly but surely, all of the cool people left and I decided to quit. I
stole a lot of money from them but was never questioned or caught.
Briefly after that I worked at a Taco Bell. Nothing exciting
there. I quit.
I was now 16 years old, and getting sick of school. I joined
the O.J.T. (On the Job Training) program at Central High in St. Paul, and was
given a job at Liberty State Bank as a mail room clerk, and a security guard. I
went in stoned every day after barely making it through half a day at school.
But somehow I managed to hang on for a while. I sorted through mail, sent all
outgoing envelopes through a cool postage machine, and then worked out in the
guard shack where I smoked weed and cigarettes, and directed the occasional
vehicle in and out of parking spots. It was a great job with great benefits.
One of the benefits was knowing where and when the cameras were recording, and
which doors had cool stuff behind them. I stole plenty of stuff off of camera.
Never money of course because you just don’t fuck with a bank like that. But in
the end, they found out I had recently dropped out of school and gave me a
choice: Take termination with severance, or they would buy me a new laptop and I
could finish my diploma online, at my own pace, and keep working there. I opted
for the severance. Bad choice.
17 years old, out of work and kicked out of the house for
the first time. I moved in with a friend and his parents, and shortly
thereafter began my dealings with the various hardware stores in the St. Paul
area fixing windows and screens, gaining their trust, and robbing them blind.
More on that on the next post. I have 20 more years of job experience to write
about, so this may take a few posts.
