My first job was at the Marriott's restaurant at exit 8A on the New Jersey turnpike. My older sister (who has a brain like a computer, is quick, efficient and a fabulous waitress) got me the job. I had to wear this white polyester pant suit with a green apron and white crepe soled nursing shoes. I had to wear my hair in a hairnet.
I sucked so bad at it. I got yelled at for always making the ice-cream cones too big and talking too much to the customers. I hated the uniform and went home with dried ice-cream caked up to my elbows, but the final straw was when I accidentally got the milk machine stuck on and couldn't turn it off and I was grabbing pitchers to try to catch all the milk and the boss found me laughing hysterically about it with another worker.
(I guess he wanted me to cry or something). Anyway - he didn't have the heart to fire me directly, but he told my sister, 'We thought we were getting someone else like you - you guys certainly aren't very much alike, are you- you're sure she's your sister?'
I hated it anyway, and I didn't want to negatively influence my sister's future with the company
- so I quit and went to work at a clothing store- that worked out much better for me.