Do you remember the first job you ever had?  I don’t mean the miscellaneous ones like babysitting or cutting the neighbors lawn.  I mean the very first ‘real taxes-deducted-from-paycheck’ job.  My very first job the minute after I turned 16 was for a retail store called Pay’n’Save.  It was a Washington State fixture which through several mergers and sell-offs ended up being absorbed into what RiteAid is today.

They had opened a brand new location in my little town of Kent, Washington, where I grew up (which ironically closed shortly after that because of the subsequent mergers.  The store, not the town.).  It was the perfect place for a first job since my parents preferred I work somewhere that closed at a reasonable hour vs. the late hour of fast food places.  I even had to go to a 3-day “Cashier School” in Downtown Seattle to ‘train’ for the job.  The first of many training seminars in my subsequent diverse corporate background.

Picture this:  A bright, sunny Spring day.  The sky is a stunning shade of blue, the birds are chirping cheerfully.  I’m one of several cashiers working on a beautiful Saturday afternoon at the cash registers.   Suddenly the automatic doors at the entrance opened, and in comes a girl in her early twenties riding her horse into the store.

A real live honest-to-goodness horse.  Inside the store.

Apparently she was doing so to protest the fact that Pay’n’Save had been built on previous horse pastures.  She wasn’t happy about that.  She also thought she’d be able to just make a scene then leave without getting caught.  The mysterious cowgirl who rides into the store, then off into the sunset.  Except that the automatic doors into the store won’t open from the inside – you have to go through the register lanes to get to the exit doors.   The lanes were too narrow for a horse to walk through.

She and her horse were stuck in the store.


The police showed up and arrested her, and it was a comedy of errors as they tried to get the horse to go through the widest cash register lane.   They finally had to pry the automatic doors open to get the horse out.    I was so glad I was on cash register duty that day – one of the shelf stockers had to clean up the horse poop.

That had to be one of the most memorable events that ever took place for what normally was a mundane job.  What was your first job like?

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  1. wow – it would be tough to beat that one.
    My first job was at a fast food place called the ‘Red Barn’. We goof around quite a bit (horsing around?) but no real horses.

    At another early career job I packed stuff being sent to the White House. I need to write a post about that.

    I’ve been to Everett so did I pass through Kent? Sounds familiar.
    .-= lisleman would like you to read ..what’s in a blog =-.

  2. That’s crazy! My first job was as a cashier at a supermarket called Publix, they’re a chain found mostly in the South. The most exciting thing that happened was that River Phoenix came in once. He used to live in a nearby town (and I think some of his family still does) and I was just a teenager…I nearly fainted when I saw him! He didn’t come through my line though.
    .-= dysfunctional mom would like you to read ..Sundays In My City – Then & Now =-.

  3. It sucks when people horse around while you are trying to work! LOL

    I worked in a restaurant for a lot of years. That was my first job.
    .-= Otin would like you to read ..Hunted =-.

  4. What a hilarious but ballsy thing to do. I remember Pac N Save, we had them here when I was younger. My first job was at Chick Fil A with both of my brothers and all of our friends. It was a blast.
    .-= Casey would like you to read ..Home Economics Later In Life =-.

  5. I was a sweeper at an elementary school. My job wasn’t nearly that eventful to say the least.
    .-= Margaret would like you to read .. =-.

  6. Too bad digital camera phones weren’t the norm then, I would have loved to see that.

    By the way, my dad’s name is Norm.

    Anyhoo….my first job was in the lovely town of Vancouver, WA and I worked at a restaurant called the Yankee Pot Roast. A dishwasher at first I rapidly proved my mettle and made it to Biscuit Lady in only a short amount of time. Which meant wearing a prairie lady outfit and baking biscuits in a hot oven all morning.

    Good times for sure.
    .-= Teri would like you to read gone monday =-.

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