This is not my story but of my husband's. When he went to America in 1988, . His first job was in tying (with a straw) the Sunday LA Times. He was paid $4 every hour or for every hundred papers he had tied. But that was only on Saturday nights, usually midnight was the start of work until dawn. On his first night, he earned $12, good enough for a newbie. Born and raised in a middle class family, I never imagined my husband taking a job like that. But he would always tell me that all he wanted was to experience life there. So there.
It was about 1988 when I had a weekend job in a convenience store. Before opening up in the morning I had to untie packs of newspapers to place them on the shelves. Sunday mornings were always the worst, with all the different supplements and magazine sections having to be unpacked and put together with the main section of the newspaper they came with. Customers would soon complain if any part was missing. My hands would get black from the ink after handling all those newspapers.
One of the odd jobs I had was to work as a server in a restaurant, as a single parent working a commissioned job I worked as a server on the weekends to make sure I did not have to worry about money, if a commission was delayed or disappeared. It worked out, although I was tired most of the time. I liked working my own schedule so I did what I had to do to continue to work the way I wanted to.
My husband's next job in the US is janitorial in a drug company. The machines that manufacture drugs have condensation that created puddles on the floor. My husband and 2 other guys mop the floor not with a mop but with rags using his hands. A mop cannot get under the machines so they have to use their hands. He was kneeling most of the time and he would complain of leg pains in his letters. By the way, his shift was in graveyard. By the way, my husband went to the US to get a technical job because he was a computer programmer here. It took him 2 months before he finally got a job as a computer operator in a large company producing expensive stereo speakers.
I worked a commissioned job with newspapers , too; but what I was doing was selling subscriptions to the paper. I had a little kiosk that would fit in the back of my car, and then I set it up at the store where they sent me to work. When people came into the store, I would sign them up for a free drawing , and then talk to them about a newspaper subscription, or renewing the one the had if it was close to expiring. At Christmas, we always had good sales because people wanted the newspapers with all of the Christmas sales in it. After Christmas, I would talk about the after-Christmas sales, and then the end of the year closeouts. There was almost always something going on that helped to sell the newspapers. People would buy the Sunday paper just to get the coupons. Some people would subscribe to 2-3 papers, just to get more of the coupons. Until my heart got so bad that I could not stand at the kiosk and work; I did that for some extra money every week.
I didn't know that you can do that with your car - selling newspaper. I believe you are parked in a street corner so the customers can easily see your wares. The newspaper vendor is also positioned in street corners here and they have regular customers who buy newspaper. The vendor said that the profit is small but the working hours is short so it's just okay. After 10 am, they are not around anymore. And the surplus newspapers are taken in by their distributor.
When I was still married I was working full time day shift in a factory. Got off around 4pm, went home and ate, then rushed to a part time job in another factory until around 12 or 1am. On Sundays I delivered bundles of news papers around town. Those were not fun times.
Corie, I was not actually selling newspapers per se out of my car. What I was doing was selling newspaper subscriptions, and I didn't do it from the car. I worked in different stores. Usually , I would be several days to a week in one store, and then the next week, I worked somewhere else, We made kind of a route, so it was a month or so in between the times that I worked at each particular store. I carried the little folding kiosk in the back of my vehicle, and then set it up inside the front door of the store where I was working. When people came in the door, then I entered them into the free drawing, and while they were signing up for that; I was able to ask them if they already had a subscription to the news paper, and explain about the special offer we had for taking the paper, if they were not already subscribers. When they subscribed, they got a free gift, like a special umbrella with the name of the newspaper and printed with pictures from the Sunday comics. Sometimes, They got a gift card for the store where I was working; but they always got something special when they signed up to take the paper.
I get it now, @Yvonne Smith. But I wonder what you said about your heart. Do you have a heart ailment? My husband's third odd job in the US is as a counter person of Stop N Go. It is like 7-11 with a convenience store connected to the gas station. He was assigned in graveyard shift again. On his first night, it was a good one because the manager had taught him the basic duties like rearranging and dusting off the items on the rack, checking on expired item, mopping the floor, etc. On his second night, there was this group of teenage boys who grabbed 6-packs of beer and ran towards the exit. My husband was at the counter and the manager was near the exit. The manager called the cops for the incident to be recorded. Nothing much happened after that. My husband had requested to be transferred to another outlet.
Another one of the odd jobs that I had was working for the animal control place. You know that I had to be truly desperate, because there are few things that I hate worse than animal control. The one in Spokane that I worked for had literally stolen my daughter's beloved dog at least once, and tried to get him when he would go to meet her school bus at night. Casey was a beautiful dog, part Samoyed and part Australian Shepherd, and maybe a little Blue Heeler in there, too. He had the color (blue merle) of an Aussie, and the thick coat and curly tail of the Samoyed. Robin fell in love when she saw him at the dog pound, and we bought him for her. ( I imagine that they probably stole him from some other family ) The people from animal control would ignore the scruffy dogs that ran up and down the street near our house, but the truck would park just down the street from our house and wait for Casey to run out to greet Robin coming home from school. When I saw the animal control truck, I would lock him up; but one day I missed seeing them and they took Casey away, right out of my wailing little girls arms. They were right by our house; but just outside of the property fence. It was not like Casey was running the streets, he just went out the gate to meet Robin. Anyway, that is why I hate animal control. But......back to the story ! My ex-husband was either out of work, or it was one of the times when he was on drugs. I don't remember. I just remember that I had to get some money somehow, and the animal control job was all that I could find; so I took it. They gave me a little book that was for notice of violation. I had to walk door to door, and ask people if they had a dog. If they had one, I asked to see the license. If they didn't have a license; I had to give them the NOV (notice of violation), and they had a week or two to get the dog licensed, or a uniformed officer would come to the house and they could be fined. I think the pay was some kind of commission for the amount of NOV's that I wrote; so in order to make any money; I HAD to give out the notices. People didn't have money for the license, and I hated giving out those notices. I guess the only good part about that job was that I hated it so much that I looked in the paper every single day until I finally found a different job.
@Yvonne Smith, I don't think I am capable of handling that old job of yours. To check on the houses for the license of their dog, huh, that's too difficult for me. And what would I do when the resident has no license? Do I confiscate their dog? Do I have the heart to do that? You are right, it's not easy to work in the Animal Control. Over here, the's a dog pound that used to roam to capture stray animals. But people here are stubborn and they even quarrel with the animal control people when their pets are captured. So those guys in the animal control are avoiding our village.
I didn't think that it was something that I could do either, @Corie Henson; but when you have children, taking care of them comes before anything else in the whole world. So, no matter what the job would have been, if it made the difference of there being food on the table for my family or not having any; I would have done the job. Except for my attitude about what I had to do, the job was not a hard one, compared to some of the other jobs that I have had in my working years. It was Spring, the trees and flowers were blooming, and all I had to do was stroll down the street and knock on doors. If no one was home, and I saw or heard a dog; then I left them a notice so they could either call in and verify that they had a license, or they could get one if needed. Easy-Peasy job. Except I hated doing it. But it took care of my kids, and that was what was most important.
@Yvonne Smith, that's also the mentality of my husband when he went to the US. He would take any job as long as it is a decent job no matter how hard. It was a good thing when he was finally hired as a computer operator near Hollywood because the pay was good at $15 per hour. During those days, the minimum wage in California was $4. And since overtime work was almost unlimited, he was earning so much that he was sending back home. Unfortunately, he got homesick and that's what made him leave America.
I think that working for a temp staffing agency falls into the odd job category especially if the assignment only lasts a day. With that being said, one odd job was a promotion of the round chocolate candies wrapped in golden paper. I was standing the for quite awhile time in heels. Finally, an employee came with a chair for me to sit in. I enjoyed every minute meeting people from all walks of life. I think I was in some place like Cub Foods (US). The pay was good as well for a day's work.
This reminds me of the sales ladies in the mall's boutique shop. They are in high heels with hair in bun and a fully made up face. Nice to look at especially when they provide assistance to you. But I have been noticing that there were no seats around. And one sales lady I had interviewed admitted that they are prohibited to sit. Their job is to stand beside the wares then are selling and just wait for the break after 2 hours. It is a pathetic situation but they cannot do anything because they are only temps.