While I've shared much of the story of my life as an employed person, I've not yet shared my first job story. As with all my jobs, the biggest thing about this job was the people. In this case, it was one person, my boss Harry Hjortshoj - pronounced Yortsoy.
Harry was a great guy of about 55 years of age. He had a ring of hair that tended to stick out below his bald pate. He had a very peculiar nasal tone to his voice, but his voice had a lilt to it that was always jovial and good natured, and he had a twinkle in his eye.
Harry ran the gas/service station our family frequented for some 20 years or so. It was a Standard Station first - when I was just a little girl. I liked to go there because he had one of those machines you could put a penny or nickel into and get a handful of nuts. You don't see those around any more. And he would let me stand on the hoist while he made it rise a few feet into the air - probably not too safe, but exciting for a tot!
When I turned 15, my parents wanted to get me out of the house more. I played softball but that was an afternoon, evening activity and back then we didn't play 50 games a season. So Dad asked Harry if he needed some help, and I began working a couple hours each morning at Hjortshoj Fina (after Standard pulled out of Iowa). I rode my bike down the big hill to work each day. Fun on the way there - not so much on the way back!
In those days, people didn't use credit cards for purchases - they had charge accounts that small businesses kept track of. As a car driver it was great! We could pull up, Harry would wipe our windows (usually with a greasy cloth) and pump the gas. Then we'd say "charge it" and drive off.
That was the era when gas had gone up from like 30 cents a gallon to around a buck. Harry had 2 pumps - 1 was regular and 1 was ethyl - the more potent stuff, a little pricier. The old pumps didn't have a way to price gas over a dollar, so the ethyl pump showed 50% of the actual price. The first tough lesson I learned was, remember to only put in half of what customers told me. It was embarrassing to tell them I screwed up and put in $10 worth when they only wanted 5$.
I also kept the books and did statements at the end of the month - all by hand. I worked a big adding machine and ran a ticket. Some people charged a bunch! Sometimes, when another person manned the station, Harry and I would run to get people's cars for service. Often, Harry would drive us to the home in his old Chevy pickup that had tire strips on the front bumper. I soon found out why those strips were in place, when I stopped at a stop sign, and Harry would ram into the bumper of the car I was driving - on purpose! Then he'd smile and wave!
Lots of people, including my grandpa, would stop for coffee each morning at the station. It was a regular hang out! Then Harry would yell "Lessie" (he couldn't say my name very well) "How about you go for donuts!". Then he'd slip me a couple bucks and I'd walk a couple blocks over to the donut shop. I learned to love fresh from the fryer plain cake donuts. Yum. He'd also send me for parts at the NAPA store. I learned to love that service station smell - kinda oily, tire scented. I still enjoy that today. Kinky, I know.
At the station, we had an Coke machine (of course - Atlantic Bottling had a monopoly in that town), but instead of pop in every slot, there were a couple cans of beer in one for when Harry closed up in the evening. He taught me how to fill out forms for tire adjustments. I ran the car when he balanced wheels. He had a few "bad" jokes he'd tell often - like when people wanted air in their tires, he'd say "we have a special today - colored air!" Sometimes they'd fall for it!
I've mentioned before that I am a former (maybe not so former) tomboy. I had my hair short even then. Harry knew I'd get dirty at work, so he gave me some of his striped work shirts with a Harry name patch to wear. Several times people asked him if I was his son. He'd just smile and say I was Dave Bullock's daughter. He paid me in cash, so I guess that job was off the books!
You can probably tell, I loved Harry. He was a good guy and I'm glad I had a chance to work for him at my first job. I hope I bring the same energy to work with me each day that he did.
Harry was a great guy of about 55 years of age. He had a ring of hair that tended to stick out below his bald pate. He had a very peculiar nasal tone to his voice, but his voice had a lilt to it that was always jovial and good natured, and he had a twinkle in his eye.
Harry ran the gas/service station our family frequented for some 20 years or so. It was a Standard Station first - when I was just a little girl. I liked to go there because he had one of those machines you could put a penny or nickel into and get a handful of nuts. You don't see those around any more. And he would let me stand on the hoist while he made it rise a few feet into the air - probably not too safe, but exciting for a tot!
When I turned 15, my parents wanted to get me out of the house more. I played softball but that was an afternoon, evening activity and back then we didn't play 50 games a season. So Dad asked Harry if he needed some help, and I began working a couple hours each morning at Hjortshoj Fina (after Standard pulled out of Iowa). I rode my bike down the big hill to work each day. Fun on the way there - not so much on the way back!
In those days, people didn't use credit cards for purchases - they had charge accounts that small businesses kept track of. As a car driver it was great! We could pull up, Harry would wipe our windows (usually with a greasy cloth) and pump the gas. Then we'd say "charge it" and drive off.
That was the era when gas had gone up from like 30 cents a gallon to around a buck. Harry had 2 pumps - 1 was regular and 1 was ethyl - the more potent stuff, a little pricier. The old pumps didn't have a way to price gas over a dollar, so the ethyl pump showed 50% of the actual price. The first tough lesson I learned was, remember to only put in half of what customers told me. It was embarrassing to tell them I screwed up and put in $10 worth when they only wanted 5$.
I also kept the books and did statements at the end of the month - all by hand. I worked a big adding machine and ran a ticket. Some people charged a bunch! Sometimes, when another person manned the station, Harry and I would run to get people's cars for service. Often, Harry would drive us to the home in his old Chevy pickup that had tire strips on the front bumper. I soon found out why those strips were in place, when I stopped at a stop sign, and Harry would ram into the bumper of the car I was driving - on purpose! Then he'd smile and wave!
Lots of people, including my grandpa, would stop for coffee each morning at the station. It was a regular hang out! Then Harry would yell "Lessie" (he couldn't say my name very well) "How about you go for donuts!". Then he'd slip me a couple bucks and I'd walk a couple blocks over to the donut shop. I learned to love fresh from the fryer plain cake donuts. Yum. He'd also send me for parts at the NAPA store. I learned to love that service station smell - kinda oily, tire scented. I still enjoy that today. Kinky, I know.
At the station, we had an Coke machine (of course - Atlantic Bottling had a monopoly in that town), but instead of pop in every slot, there were a couple cans of beer in one for when Harry closed up in the evening. He taught me how to fill out forms for tire adjustments. I ran the car when he balanced wheels. He had a few "bad" jokes he'd tell often - like when people wanted air in their tires, he'd say "we have a special today - colored air!" Sometimes they'd fall for it!
I've mentioned before that I am a former (maybe not so former) tomboy. I had my hair short even then. Harry knew I'd get dirty at work, so he gave me some of his striped work shirts with a Harry name patch to wear. Several times people asked him if I was his son. He'd just smile and say I was Dave Bullock's daughter. He paid me in cash, so I guess that job was off the books!
You can probably tell, I loved Harry. He was a good guy and I'm glad I had a chance to work for him at my first job. I hope I bring the same energy to work with me each day that he did.
1 comment:
i loved this! reminded me of bunches of things -- my grandpa's accent, my first paid job for John Emken who laced his English with German, the peanut machine at my grandpa's store, my dad's goofy joke about instant water -- "just add water", etc. loved it! and wow i was impressed. i never got to do all that stuff -- just sling hash. haha
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