let's be honest-part 1 (1980 through 1997(correction))
after starting off SO STRONG i somehow forgot about this one, strangely, as it's the first gig i take with exactly the most minimum of qualifications:
Job: Valet, Ridgewood Country Club, Ridgewood, New Jersey, February 15 - March 12, 1997
Expected Skills/Knowledge/Training/Attributes: a driver's license, clean record, presentable appearance, some driving skill.
Actual Qualifications: i receive my license exactly two days before taking this job, brought to me by a valet friend and fellow heavy pot-head. this isn't to say that i am an unskilled driver - i am naturally inclined and have been at it on and off, for friends more drunk/drugged than i, for about three years - but high-performance (ferrari, porsche) race type manual trannies? nope, no idea. my record, all two days of it, is clean as a whistle. i look good. none of this changes the fact that i have no idea how to handle about a third of the members' cars.
The Experience: at first this job is awesome. i get blazing high and my friend covers all the cars i can't step to. he teaches me stick on easier cars (bmw 5 series, audi, etc.) out in the back of the lot, far from the members' view. the money is shit - our boss takes our tips and pays us an hourly wage. we pocket as much as we reasonably can. then i start taking sticks. fuck it, right? i stall twice in front of one member, in his porsche. i figure it out after a few days, drive a couple of ferraris.
Result: i quit because i don't really need the money since graduation gifts are looming and my parents are already leasing me a brand new sweet black pathfinder. god i miss that car. fuck my jeep. so the money sucked anyway, i could just as easily smoke weed and drive my own car and on my own schedule even. plus, i'm about to graduate high school, go to snowboard camp and then travel around europe all on my folks' dime. what the fuck am i doing with a job in the first place? now i can drive stick.
Music: sublime's "smoke two joints..." because, well there were always joints everywhere. i don't know where we were getting our weed from at this point, but it was incredible - oh yeah, from that kid justin - and purple and didn't even really look or smell like any weed i'd ever seen before and i could take one hit and be completely enthralled for an hour or two. this is also when i am president of my high school's student council. god save the president.
Job: Valet, Ridgewood Country Club, Ridgewood, New Jersey, February 15 - March 12, 1997
Expected Skills/Knowledge/Training/Attributes: a driver's license, clean record, presentable appearance, some driving skill.
Actual Qualifications: i receive my license exactly two days before taking this job, brought to me by a valet friend and fellow heavy pot-head. this isn't to say that i am an unskilled driver - i am naturally inclined and have been at it on and off, for friends more drunk/drugged than i, for about three years - but high-performance (ferrari, porsche) race type manual trannies? nope, no idea. my record, all two days of it, is clean as a whistle. i look good. none of this changes the fact that i have no idea how to handle about a third of the members' cars.
The Experience: at first this job is awesome. i get blazing high and my friend covers all the cars i can't step to. he teaches me stick on easier cars (bmw 5 series, audi, etc.) out in the back of the lot, far from the members' view. the money is shit - our boss takes our tips and pays us an hourly wage. we pocket as much as we reasonably can. then i start taking sticks. fuck it, right? i stall twice in front of one member, in his porsche. i figure it out after a few days, drive a couple of ferraris.
Result: i quit because i don't really need the money since graduation gifts are looming and my parents are already leasing me a brand new sweet black pathfinder. god i miss that car. fuck my jeep. so the money sucked anyway, i could just as easily smoke weed and drive my own car and on my own schedule even. plus, i'm about to graduate high school, go to snowboard camp and then travel around europe all on my folks' dime. what the fuck am i doing with a job in the first place? now i can drive stick.
Music: sublime's "smoke two joints..." because, well there were always joints everywhere. i don't know where we were getting our weed from at this point, but it was incredible - oh yeah, from that kid justin - and purple and didn't even really look or smell like any weed i'd ever seen before and i could take one hit and be completely enthralled for an hour or two. this is also when i am president of my high school's student council. god save the president.
posted by josh at 10:03 PM
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