My first job was right here at Archer Kent Drug Store, in Greenwich, Connecticut when I was 15 years old.
I am on the left with my store manager, far right and assistant store manager, middle. (he was an ass)
The store manager, Vicki, was very full of herself, stuck up, over made up and pilfered makeup and personal care products constantly. I was appalled at how much she got away with and that she never had one second of remorse over her little secret thefts.
Those two made me do all the dirty work. The shelves and stock room were filthy, dusty, sticky and musty old, dingie as can be.
I had to clean shelves, floors, the bathroom (disgusting), put away cases of delivered products, unpack , label and stock the shelves. Later, they taught me to use the cash register where I was happiest, helping customers.
I made minimum wage and my mom had to drive me to and from work, after school. It was a drag of a job, uninspiring, substandard treatment by two mean bosses who had no regard for how hard I worked and cleaned the store daily for their greater glory.
This job lasted one school year before I moved down the street to work for a ladies apparrel shop, Chancy D'Elia's. Both were on Grennwich Avenue, a long time very posh little main street in a very hoity toity town on Pennsylvania Railroad. One hour by train to downtown Manhatten and to Wall Street.
The job essentially sucked, however, I learned to work at something other than babysitting and cleaning bathrooms at home for my mom.
The photo was taken on a once a year "Hawaii Days" event in town, where Hawaiin apparrel was mandatory for all the shop employees. I was not happy in that photo and was cold to boot, in that skimpy outfit.
The drug store no longer exists, nor the ladie's apparrel store. The town has been so upscaled and 'yuppified 'it's hardly recognizable.
All in all, though, Greenwich, Connecticut, was one of the most memorable and wonderul places our family had every lived, in our journey of moves across the country.
Happy Days!


Salon.com
Comments
rated X for mine and Lonnie's thoughts. :-D
I'd do most anything for a 'good' boss. Aren't you glad those days are far behind you and things have worked out fine?
Unfortunately I have had several jobs that sound just like yours. I wonder if all these ass ho** bosses get together once a year and gloat over what s.o.b.s they have been in the past 12 months?
Monte
It was just a summer job between junior and senior year. I played about three different sports, so I had to have a job that worked in the evening around my summer work outs. This was a fryer/grill/mop/toilet clean/I say jump, you say "how high" job. The guy berated us all in the back all the time. Now at the time, I was a pretty good sized kid, but nonetheless only 6'3/180 at that time. Slim and muscular but not imposing. This guy was probably 6'0 and 300 lbs.
One night, while waiting on a customer he came out to make coffee. He dropped the pot of coffee behind me and broke it all over the floor and hot coffee hit me in the heels. I continue without stopping to wait on the customers. He PUSHED me over and started taking the orders in my place. He looked at me like I was crazy and said, "well go get a damn mop". I took off my apron (like something out of Fast Times) and threw it at him and said "get it your damn self" which brought a couple of cheers from the back and good for yous from the customers. I saw the guy out at the mall with my friends later that summer and he headed the other direction. We wouldn't have harassed him, not our style, but he obviously thought so...
Do you know what happen to those two jerks?
Great old photo, as usual.
Greg - My midriff was full of goose bumps! And you should have posted your comment with additional details for the open call!
Michael - Yes, they made me feel like a back alley mutt!
Silkstone - My experiences with retail were not all that glamorous, as you really see what goes on behind the shiny exterior and in the back room.
David - My old photos are fairly organized into albums of each era and occasion so just ran up to the cabinet and grabbed the album where this one was easily found. Thanks.
Monte - I believe those sorry types of bosses get theirs in spades down the road. Nothing like karma to kick you in the butt of your own arrogance.
Lea - Wow, thanks for the compliment, tho I felt far from glamorous that day. I was pissed for having to wear the outfit and not allowed to wear a sweater or jacket to keep warm.
George - Sounds like you get to Greenwich on occasion. And no, I have no idea what became of those two creeps! After I quit, I never looked back.
It has always struck me as so strange there are people out there, when given a small amount of power over another turn into tyrants who might ordinarily be perfectly likable individuals. :)
Great Post!
If I'd have been in Greenwich on Hawaii day back in the day, you can bet I'd have showed up at Archer Kent and done my best Elvis Presley version of Little Sister. No, wait. That would have to be for Mary, right?
And now you're bringing Joan in here? How am I gonna keep up???
mary
The restaurant owner was a Middle Eastern man who was rarely around, and had a cold relationship with the manager, a red-haired woman. He was very wealthy and was married with children, but he also had a pretty young mistress, and he gave her a job as a restaurant hostess, perhaps out of economic pity. But she never worked, she just stood around painting her nails. Even when the restaurant was slammed and we needed all hands on deck to bus tables and take care of patrons, she stood idly at her hosting station as if oblivious to other humans. She refused to do work. This really pissed off the manager and caused ongoing arguments with the restaurant owner.
When the restaurant was empty and I was doing pre-opening work such as vacuuming or polishing silverware, the pretty hostess, who was my age, would come over and curiously watch me as if studying what people who worked for a living looked like. Soon she started opening up to me, and soon she was telling me every intimate detail of her life, including her relationship with her sugar daddy. I probably could have blackmailed the restaurant owner based on the things she told me. He had a little side business moving large quantities of cocaine (I lived in a fairly large city), and she became comfortable enough with me that she'd get out little baggies of it and snort it from her well-polished pinkie nail into her model-faced mini-nostril right in front of me. She offered me some but I was at an age where I'd barely gulped beer, let alone done any drugs. She would later abruptly disappear, suddenly not showing up for work one day, with no explanation or subsequent mention.
I like!
no matter if the job is in sales, restaurant or whatever,
if you are working for someone else this crap will
happen. Despite the circumstances, those old photos
are fun. Lovely Hula girl!