So here is my little disclaimer…I am going to change the names of the places I have worked at as well as my co-workers, just because it seems to be the right thing to do.
simplydailyreciepes.com
I believe I had the best first job ever. I was almost 16 years old and decided I needed to work, so I went where any 15-year-old would…where everyone hangs out and that is where I found Main St Ice Cream and Coffee*. My one and only co-worker was Mike* an oh so cool one year older than me ice cream scooping pro…and he was a total babe, thick glasses, band shirts… the whole package.
Things were great. It was summer our boss paid us under that table, we rounded up our tips and basically owned the place.
But when summer ended..so did our fun. Mike totaled his car and found a new job. And I was left alone. No more dangerous car rides home and closing up early to catch the hardcore bands playing down the street.
By this time our boss had us on pay roll and I was no longer a 16year old receiving $200 cash every week. Also it was 70degrees and under, and in San Diego that means everyone is cold…and they want something hot.
Up until this point NO ONE had ever ordered coffee at Main St Ice Cream and Coffee. Until one day when I was alone and asked to pull a shot of espresso to place on some ice cream.
Now, I had seen it done once or twice down the street where we’d go watch bands play, and I simply just acted like I knew what I was doing…but really had no clue …at all.
I tamped it too hard and the shot came dribbling out, I poured it onto the ice cream and hurried to take the next customers order. After a few more weeks, more coffee was being ordered and I was still serving dribbled shots paired with burned milk that was steamed with such a high screeching noise I am most likely hard of hearing because of it.
They usually didn’t come back for more.
The few weeks turned into a month or so and I decided my ice cream scooping, coffee-making days were over.
Until I applied to the first cafe I saw 6months later.
