Rebuilding Rob

I would be negligent if I didn’t mention that I got today’s topic from this Medium page. I figured at some point, I would need to start looking elsewhere for prompts

Write about your first job and what it taught you

Although I held two other jobs before it, the most formative work experience I ever had was my third job at an Arby’s. My first job was working at a local party store, as we used to call them. It was a hybrid of a convenience store and a liquor store, just with a small liquor selection. My second job was working in the kitchen at a senior living facility.

While the first two jobs taught me some of the fundamental aspects of working, my third job proved far more educational than I could have imagined. Incidentally, I wrote about this same experience about a year-and-a-half ago HERE.

I applied for a job at Arby’s late in the summer before my senior year of high school. I did so at the time with great reservations. Back then I thought that fast food jobs were for kids who couldn’t get in to retail positions. However, on the bright side, this particular Arby’s was located inside my local shopping mall. I would work “mall hours” meaning no late nights or early morning breakfast shifts.

I was embarrassed the first time I put on the uniform—an ugly, polyester polo, a maroon apron, and worst of all, a matching visor (Did we need to keep the sun out of our eyes while slicing roast beef?). I hated it, but I quickly realized it was easier on my wallet and my laundry to get a company-provided uniform dirty than it was to constantly replace my own clothing.

It’s important to know that the mall I worked at was, at the time, the premier, high-traffic mall; not just in my county but in the metro Detroit area as well. After working at Arby’s for a few months, I started running into people in other stores who’d say, ‘Hey, I know you. You work at Arby’s!’ This was my first, tiny inkling of what a famous celebrity must endure on a daily basis—a strange mix of local minor fame and intense scrutiny.

My biggest insecurity about working at Arby’s wasn’t the actual physical labor; it was the idea of dealing with customers. Not only the expectations of making everything exactly how they wanted it, but just the everyday human interactions in general. This is especially ironic considering my current line of work. Thirty- four years ago, I was a shy, introverted teenager who was sorely lacking in self-confidence. Little did I know that dignity, my patience and my self-respect were all about to be tested in a baptism of fire that I couldn’t possibly my have prepared myself for.

To their credit, the management crew at Arby’s did everything they could to train us properly. They taught us everything that was in each of our sandwiches, our portions sizes and how to operate the cash registers. Lessons in working the fryers would come later. And if they decided we were competent enough, we would be trained on the slicer as well. Unfortunately no amount of training can teach you how you are going to respond to an obnoxious customer. I would learn this lesson during my very first stint in the register.

Our registers, or POS system as they refer to it in the industry, was a computer. Primitive by today’s standards, it was two-color screen: green and black. It calculated change for us. But keep in mind, this was before debit cards were a thing. My store took cash only. They didn’t even accept credit cards. If you out the wrong cash amount I as tendered, or the customer changed their mind midway through the transaction and fished out more money, you had to do the math yourself in order to give back the right change.

On my first time working the register, I had one such customer. After paying me with $20 bill he found the sufficient coins to round out his change to an even $10. in that moment – between wearing my goofy uniform, with lots of customers waiting in-line, coworkers waiting on me to start grabbing my order and the natural, but unrealistic expectation of doing everything perfect the first time, I froze. I didn’t want to short the customer and I didn’t want my register to be over or under on cash. I could not do the math.

“Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten”. He counted out loud to me, like I was a preschooler. When I came to my senses, I gave him his proper change.

“You’re f***ing retarded“ he said just before he left with his food

“Asshole” my trainer said. I could tell she was mad. Not just for herself but she was mad for me as well. She didn’t even bother waiting for the guy to be out of hearing range.

My memories of what happened next are a little unclear. I may have stayed on the register and taken some more orders. However, the trainer may have let me go to the back and cool off for a few minutes. most likely, it was the latter.

In any case, I had to decide relatively quickly how I was going to go forward: I could quit, on the spot. I could wait until the end of my shift and quit then. But even in the moment, I knew that if I chose either of these options that this moment would haunt me for years. Or I could grit my teeth, bite my tongue, suck it up and power through. I’m happy to say that I chose the latter. I powered through. I got back on the register and I was right – nothing else that happens that day made me feel any worse that how “the asshole” made me feel.

Day one at Arby’s was an invaluable, if brutal, learning experience. I learned that there are people who derive satisfaction from cruelty, but more importantly, the event taught me about enduring adversity. In that moment, success was simply getting back on the register. Perseverance was the lesson. 

I ended up working at Arby’s for three years. To this day, it was one of the best worn experiences I’ve had in my life. I established friendships there that I would take with me throughout my college years. I correspond with one of the guys I worked with on Facebook, a few times each week. Another one of my coworkers even stood up in my wedding to X1. It was one of those high school jobs that several of us all happened to be in the right spot at the right time.

Thanks for stopping by Rebuilding Rob. Be sure to like, 👍 comment and subscribe to my blog below. It’s greatly appreciated! Also, feel free to follow me on social media as well! Check out my most recent posts as well as some earlier, related (and perhaps, not-so-related) posts:

• The Extra Day: A Ten-Year Memory
• Of Training Wheels and Christmas Lights
• Charity Starts at Home (And I’m Back in My Childhood One)
• The Muscle of Empathy
• Where Do We Go From Here? Five Years Since January 6.

AI art created with Google Gemini.

The article “The Uniform of Dignity” first appeared in Rebuilding Rob.