To All The Jobs I’ve Done Before
By: Stacey Curran
Tags: Resume, Jobs, Humor, Professional Development, Careers

To All The Jobs I’ve Done Before

Real-life resumes tell the whole story

At a certain point in one’s career, you will likely hear that your resume should not exceed one page in length. As someone who has served on way too many hiring committees, I understand this advice. However, as someone who has served on way too many hiring committees, I think the jobs people leave off their resumes are usually the ones that tell their whole story, and might make an interview way more interesting.

Those who seek jobs requiring a curriculum vitae get to write more. But I know they still don’t include that time they changed their major from biochemistry medical engineering, in tears, after failing organic chemistry again. Those people are now writers, anyway, and they need the one pager, too.

I am advocating for the submission of a real accounting of all the jobs—all the jobs. Some of which are likely to be the ones where you really, really worked.

My real resume should read as follows:

Real-Life Resume

1984–1986: Babysitter/Lego engineer/ alcohol counselor

Provided childcare for three children under the age of five. The oldest would never go to bed, even though the parents assured me that it would be an easy night and they would all be sleeping when I got there. The non-sleeper would wake the other two, and once they realized their parents were not present, 34–37 minutes of crying would ensue. Also, these children had very intense expectations around my ability to create Lego buildings so they looked like the picture on the box. Legos would be crashed and little fists would fly if I did not manage to craft a reasonable facsimile. Additionally, the parents always came home at least 90 minutes later than they indicated they would, and be way drunker than any adults I’d seen up to that point in my life.

1985–1986: Ice cream scooper/ security liaison

Efficiently scooped ice cream in a sizzling, cramped brick hovel, as never-ending lines of people formed at the windows. Kept the ice cream inventory, and ran into the freezer to refill the bubble gum ice cream multiple times in a night. Managed to ignore all the crying children who ordered the bubble gum ice cream and then realized it was terrible once they tried it. Kept the hot fudge hot, and the nuts separate from the chocolate sprinkles. Stopped co-workers from squeezing whipped cream directly into their mouths. Refused to open the drawer during a sort-of-attempted robbery, but did allow them to steal the ice cream they ordered, since that was what they really wanted. Prevented anyone from getting free toppings.

1986–1990— Video store clerk

Averted my eyes whenever someone from school’s Dad walked into the 18+ video room. Rewound so many VCR tapes. Used the PA system to report that someone had backed into a Cutlass with a “Sex therapist on board” bumper sticker in the parking lot. Knew every word to “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” because we showed it constantly. Learned how to make popcorn in an old-timey- popcorn machine. Figured out how to wash popcorn popping oil out of my clothes and hair. Once went to houses to try to get back overdue tapes. Did NOT do that ever again.

1990–1991: Pizza sever/ bouncer/closer

Responsible for serving pizza at the beach until 2 am. Frequently negotiated with drunken patrons who were looking to fight others at the counter just for intoxicated sport, by using diversion techniques learned as a babysitter. Often allowed people to put garlic powder onto their pizza instead of grated cheese after I told them what it was and they didn’t listen. Learned how to quickly ice my pizza-oven burns, while simultaneously making change. Ignored the orders of belligerent customers until they spoke nicely. Ability to function in a hostile, fast-paced environment, and to discern booze-slurred speech was critical.

Photo by Korie Cull on Unsplash

1991–1992: Retail sales clerk

Learned to fold $65 over-sized V-necked sweaters, bedecked with floral patterns at the neckline, into tight little squares and stack them methodically. Barely flinched when customers destroyed my perfectly placed-by-size piles, requiring me to refold every single one. Learned to pronounce the consonant “r” in words because no one in that Berkshire mall understood what someone from the other side of the state was saying. Kept a reliable schedule despite being a hungover college student. Used my employee discount to purchase a full-length tan leather jacket with shoulder pads.

1991–1996: Bartender/ busser/ waitress/hostess/bathroom cleaner

Worked at so many restaurants and bars: a seasonal coastal restaurant, two different fledging restaurants owned by two friends (who, in both cases, were stealing from each other), a bar in the city, a casual but up-scale place I fired myself from when I stopped showing up. In all cases, handled inappropriate comments from cooks, patrons and passerby with aplomb, when punches were preferred. Once waited all night for my reservation, who were rumored to be 3rd Bass, to show up; memorized the lyrics to “The Weasel Goes Pop” for nothing. Mixed drinks almost correctly, served spaghetti with a smile, and only forgot to add the meals tax to the bill about 10 times. Learned how to describe the preparation of food that I loathed, and occasionally managed to say the word mayonnaise without gagging. Sometimes ate three employee meals of the day if working a triple. Only once gave someone regular coffee when they asked for decaf by mistake. It haunts me still. Responsible for checking the condition of the restrooms throughout the night and cleaning them as necessary, despite the fact that I was also serving food. Completed other side work, which is restaurant speak for stuff the owners will not do, which included window washing, crooked table balancing and putting away dishes and glasses from a hot-as-hell sanitizing machine. Managed to shut off men who refused to be shut off, by pretending to forget to make their drink as long as possible, and then serving them tonic and lime instead.

1993–1996: Camp counselor

Spent my summer days in the forest singing songs, sitting on logs and listening to a lot of whining. Answered to a fake camp staff name, and intervened when kids argued over yarn colors. Watched a tree fall in the woods that somehow missed us all, but we definitely heard it. Learned to build a fire in 96 degree heat, make friendship bracelets out of any material on hand, and to tie dye any garment in all weather conditions. Learned how to search the water for a missing camper, who was actually hiding in the latrine because she didn’t like the way her s’more tasted. Accidentally struck a car without noticing, while driving the camp van. Learned to buff out a car scratch and earned the fix it badge for my camp sash.

1992–1995: Freelance reporter/self-defense expert/volunteer

Consistently filed stories on deadline while getting paid about .25/hour. Managed to ignore all the newsroom sexual harassment and learned to wield an Exacto knife for more than cutting copy. Did research on microfiche in a library, because the internet did not yet exist. Tried to get people to tell me the truth, and tried to ignore people who screamed at me for writing the truth. Had to sit through meetings that ran for five hours because elected officials liked to fight with each other. Did not get paid for attending any meetings, only the set amount for the story I wrote about it. Learned excellent time management because I also needed to work another job to have this job.

1992: Substitute teacher

Stepped into a middle school classroom in February to finish the year when a seasoned teacher retired. Got poked in the eye due to curiosity about whether I was wearing colored contacts, not malice. Broke up roughly one fight each day at recess. Learned not to cry when kids called me names, all of which were incredibly targeted to weaknesses and insecurities I thought I’d hidden. Avoided the smoking teachers’ room even though they were fun, because it was difficult to eat a salad during a 10:50 am, 15-minute lunch, amid all their smoke. Developed a taste for quarter waters after buying a case for the classroom, so kids would come to school on time instead stopping at the store.

May all employers some day consider all the work that potential job candidates have done, not just the stuff deemed one-page resume worthy. This true story resume and maybe references from some of these employers are available upon request. Should you think any of my specialized skill set is a match for your company/ publication/ firm/facility/ ice cream stand, don’t hesitate to get in touch. Also, please get in touch if you know what 3rd Bass did that night in 1991 instead of showing up.

©Stacey Curran, 2020