My first job taught me about dry cleaning and why people are garbage
Someone recently asked me about my first job. I actually had to sit and think for a few minutes to recall what my first job even was, as I have had dozens of jobs over the years. After some time, I finally recalled it. I worked at a dry cleaners which was walking distance from my home when I was 15 years old. I had just become officially fifteen and a half years old, and at the time, that was the legal age to get a job where I grew up. There was a bulletin board in the library of my high school where local businesses advertised the positions they were currently hiring teens for. I was a student aide to the library department, and I would see business owners come in all the time to post up their listings on the board. Most of the time they were retail jobs or burger flipping jobs, nothing I really wanted to do and all of which were too far from my home to be able to reliably get to. Then one day, a short, stocky, bald man that looked like a Jim Henson puppet waddled into the library a...