Lifelong Lessons From Our First Jobs
Steve Amoia
August 31, 2009
When I think about my first paying job, it taught me lessons that I still carry with me. All of us have to start somewhere in the world of work; however, many of our first jobs are not mentioned on resumes, C.V.'s, or applications as we gain professional experience. We may feel that they don't relate to our current objective. Or they may age us out of the hiring decision. When I think about my first paying job, it taught me important lessons that I still carry with me.
I was a high school freshman, and summer vacation was approaching. My parents told me about a new restaurant that was looking for help. I was not quite 15 years of age, and with the exception of cutting grass, raking leaves, shoveling snow, and a three day stint in my uncle's car wash (which was curtailed due to my age for insurance reasons,) had never had a job of any sort.
First Interview
The establishment was called the "Chinese Village Restaurant." I could see the "Help Wanted" sign hanging prominently on the front door. My mother dropped me off, and said just to be myself. The restaurant was void of any customers, and the lighting was very dim. The carpet was red and black, and I could see some construction going on in an adjacent room.
I was approached by a gray haired woman. She looked both tough and gentle. She asked what did I want? "I saw the sign in the window, and I would like to apply for a job as a busboy." She smiled and looked me over. I was short for my age, and weighed 120 pounds (54 kg). "Have you ever worked in a restaurant before?" No Ma'am. "What is your name, young man?" Steve. "Okay, Steve, I am Mrs. Thom. Margaret Thom. That guy peering through the kitchen windows is my husband, George Thom. My children also work here. David is a manager, and Joyce is a waitress."
She kept looking me over. "You look real young and small, Steve, how old are you?" She then pointed to a silver tray stacked with dishes. "I want you to pick that up, and carry it back to my husband in the kitchen. Can you do that for me?" Yes, ma'am, I can do it. So I proceeded to pick up the tray, incorrectly as I would soon be told, and struggled to carry it the roughly 75 feet (23 meters) to the kitchen area. Where I would soon meet Mr. George Thom, a very tall man to me (about 6'2" or 1.89 m) with a broad smile.
The kitchen area was very bright and immaculate. All of the cooks were Chinese men. Mr. Thom was standing against a work table. "What is your name?" Steve. "Okay, Steven, (he never called me Steve) you seem like a hard worker. We need to teach you how to carry heavy trays. A little small (he chuckled) but I think you have a strong spirit. Now go back and talk to Mrs. Thom."
She was waiting at the cash register. I saw a few of the waitresses reading Chinese newspapers at a side table, but they didn't look at me. "Your pay will be the minimum wage plus tips. You will also get a meal every night. No jeans, tee-shirts, or sneakers. I will provide a red jacket for you. Come in on Friday at 4:30 p.m. and bring your social security card."
It was one of the easiest and toughest interviews that I ever had. No application, no illegal or non job-related questions, and as Nick Cordodilos of Ask The HeadhunterŽ states, they made me do the job in the interview.
Life As A Busboy
My first night was difficult. I was very nervous, and the place was busy. I was trained by the head busboy, Chris, who was 18 and recently graduated from high school. Chris was very patient with me. He taught me how to "bus" a table, and then change the table cloth and arrange the silverware, napkins, and how to serve water glasses correctly. He also showed me the correct way to lift a tray, using your legs, and then to balance it with one arm.
"If a tip is left on the table, clean the ashtray, and put it in there. Don't ever remove the money unless the waitress gives you permission. Keep the water glasses full. Do that without asking the customers. Smile. If they ask you to take an order, tell them their waitress will be there very soon. We don't take food orders, but sometimes carry out the meals from the kitchen. At the end of the shift, the waitress will give you a tip for helping her."
In a few weeks, Chris was promoted to waiter. Actually, he was the only one among about six or seven servers. Mrs. Thom, the maitre'd, was very organized. She created "stations" of tables. I noticed that a server would be assigned to the same station for each shift. I asked Mrs. Thom about this, since some stations had larger tables. Which I noticed left better tips. "Steve, I try to spread out the work, and also give them their preferences. Especially to ones who have worked for me awhile. Some like the larger tables because the pace is slower. Others like the two seaters against the wall that turnover quickly. The stations with larger tables usually go to the most experienced person. It usually works out, tip-wise, at the end of the night, to be about the same."
Lessons Learned
There was a clear division of labor at the Chinese Village. Mrs. Thom's domain was the dining hall, and Uncle George ruled the kitchen. With rare exception, they never impeded each other's areas.
Restaurant work is physically and mentally draining, and your mistakes always have an audience.
Smart managers correct you in private, but praise you in public.
Respect and competence are not always shown by titles or age. Even busboys can learn how to lead others and set a winning example.
You don't have to like people to work with them.
Different cultures can co-exist if they make the effort to understand each other. I learned a few words in Cantonese to make my brief stays in the kitchen more enjoyable. You would be surprised how a simple "thank you" is received.
People can be competitive or mediocre. Some aspire to be the best busboy, cook, server, or hostess. Others feel entitled to a free meal just for punching the clock on time.
If you don't serve the customer, someone else will.
I was a high school freshman, and summer vacation was approaching. My parents told me about a new restaurant that was looking for help. I was not quite 15 years of age, and with the exception of cutting grass, raking leaves, shoveling snow, and a three day stint in my uncle's car wash (which was curtailed due to my age for insurance reasons,) had never had a job of any sort.
First Interview
The establishment was called the "Chinese Village Restaurant." I could see the "Help Wanted" sign hanging prominently on the front door. My mother dropped me off, and said just to be myself. The restaurant was void of any customers, and the lighting was very dim. The carpet was red and black, and I could see some construction going on in an adjacent room.
I was approached by a gray haired woman. She looked both tough and gentle. She asked what did I want? "I saw the sign in the window, and I would like to apply for a job as a busboy." She smiled and looked me over. I was short for my age, and weighed 120 pounds (54 kg). "Have you ever worked in a restaurant before?" No Ma'am. "What is your name, young man?" Steve. "Okay, Steve, I am Mrs. Thom. Margaret Thom. That guy peering through the kitchen windows is my husband, George Thom. My children also work here. David is a manager, and Joyce is a waitress."
She kept looking me over. "You look real young and small, Steve, how old are you?" She then pointed to a silver tray stacked with dishes. "I want you to pick that up, and carry it back to my husband in the kitchen. Can you do that for me?" Yes, ma'am, I can do it. So I proceeded to pick up the tray, incorrectly as I would soon be told, and struggled to carry it the roughly 75 feet (23 meters) to the kitchen area. Where I would soon meet Mr. George Thom, a very tall man to me (about 6'2" or 1.89 m) with a broad smile.
The kitchen area was very bright and immaculate. All of the cooks were Chinese men. Mr. Thom was standing against a work table. "What is your name?" Steve. "Okay, Steven, (he never called me Steve) you seem like a hard worker. We need to teach you how to carry heavy trays. A little small (he chuckled) but I think you have a strong spirit. Now go back and talk to Mrs. Thom."
She was waiting at the cash register. I saw a few of the waitresses reading Chinese newspapers at a side table, but they didn't look at me. "Your pay will be the minimum wage plus tips. You will also get a meal every night. No jeans, tee-shirts, or sneakers. I will provide a red jacket for you. Come in on Friday at 4:30 p.m. and bring your social security card."
It was one of the easiest and toughest interviews that I ever had. No application, no illegal or non job-related questions, and as Nick Cordodilos of Ask The HeadhunterŽ states, they made me do the job in the interview.
Life As A Busboy
My first night was difficult. I was very nervous, and the place was busy. I was trained by the head busboy, Chris, who was 18 and recently graduated from high school. Chris was very patient with me. He taught me how to "bus" a table, and then change the table cloth and arrange the silverware, napkins, and how to serve water glasses correctly. He also showed me the correct way to lift a tray, using your legs, and then to balance it with one arm.
"If a tip is left on the table, clean the ashtray, and put it in there. Don't ever remove the money unless the waitress gives you permission. Keep the water glasses full. Do that without asking the customers. Smile. If they ask you to take an order, tell them their waitress will be there very soon. We don't take food orders, but sometimes carry out the meals from the kitchen. At the end of the shift, the waitress will give you a tip for helping her."
In a few weeks, Chris was promoted to waiter. Actually, he was the only one among about six or seven servers. Mrs. Thom, the maitre'd, was very organized. She created "stations" of tables. I noticed that a server would be assigned to the same station for each shift. I asked Mrs. Thom about this, since some stations had larger tables. Which I noticed left better tips. "Steve, I try to spread out the work, and also give them their preferences. Especially to ones who have worked for me awhile. Some like the larger tables because the pace is slower. Others like the two seaters against the wall that turnover quickly. The stations with larger tables usually go to the most experienced person. It usually works out, tip-wise, at the end of the night, to be about the same."
Lessons Learned
There was a clear division of labor at the Chinese Village. Mrs. Thom's domain was the dining hall, and Uncle George ruled the kitchen. With rare exception, they never impeded each other's areas.
Restaurant work is physically and mentally draining, and your mistakes always have an audience.
Smart managers correct you in private, but praise you in public.
Respect and competence are not always shown by titles or age. Even busboys can learn how to lead others and set a winning example.
You don't have to like people to work with them.
Different cultures can co-exist if they make the effort to understand each other. I learned a few words in Cantonese to make my brief stays in the kitchen more enjoyable. You would be surprised how a simple "thank you" is received.
People can be competitive or mediocre. Some aspire to be the best busboy, cook, server, or hostess. Others feel entitled to a free meal just for punching the clock on time.
If you don't serve the customer, someone else will.
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