A Summertime Job for a Rural Girl

Most of the time as a rural teen my job was to play my guitar and be a free spirit. It was my 17th year, my summer before my senior year of high school, that I decided I wanted a job. That year, I had been given my 1965 Ford Mustang (see photo above of my car, my aunt on the left, and myself on the right) that needed gasoline to run. Moreover, I didn't want to burden my parents with the expenses of my final year in high school. I needed a job.

I found a job.

Well my dad actually told me about the job and probably talked to the owners for me, because suddenly I had a waitressing job at a small resort restaurant, in a state park, near where I lived. This was the same state park where my dad worked for many years. He KNEW people. I worked all kinds of shifts. Sometimes I worked the breakfast shift, but mostly dinner. I worked Sundays in the beginning, but later somehow finagled it where I rarely worked on a Sunday.

It was hard work for a rural princess, with manicured nails, to work as a waitress. But I persevered. Well, except I almost quit the first week. Here’s what happened.

I hadn’t been at the job too long when I came home and told my parents I was quitting. I hated smelling like a restaurant. I hated getting up early some mornings and working late evenings. I hated that some of the older waitresses didn’t like me because the lead waitress loved me. I had many valid stupid reasons why I needed wanted to quit something that was out of my comfort zone.  As I shared my woes, my dad sat quietly for a minute or two and then told me that he wanted me to give the job one more week. If I still hated it, then I could quit, but first I needed to give the job a fair shake. He told me he thought I would get use to it and enjoy the money after all was done.

He was right.

I did get use to it. And I did enjoy the money. Not the 50 cents an hour that I made, but the tips from the very generous steak eating fishermen. I made $500 that summer. That job helped me buy many of the things that others would buy for their senior year of high school, gas for the car, and clothes to wear.

Working at the state park was a good way to meet guys, if you liked smelly older fishermen with waders. Oh and then there was the rich young man - who was too old for me in spite of his youth. He was related to the owners of the restaurant. He would come to the park every weekend. And every weekend he would invite me to his room at the resort – also family owned- for a drink. "I have some good Scotch", he would say.  He was a repeat performer. He asked me the same thing every weekend that he stayed at the park.

And every weekend, I would politely tell him to take a long jump off the rural bridge just down the highway.

I learned that summer:

1. That fishermen are fine fellows.

2. To carry two platter dishes on one skinny arm.

3. To make shortcakes (pancakes).

And most importantly,  I learned -don't quit before you give something a real chance.  I even used this wisdom with my children over the years and with anyone else who hated their new situation.  I changed it a bit, I would say - give it a month and you will get use to it, if not then leave. Most of the time it works. Most of the time it's about adjustment. But, sometimes it's just best to walk away.





I found this journal not too long ago of my projected expenses for my senior year in high school.  If the numbers are correct, I had plenty of money leftover to play.








Rural Significance: Back then, it was more difficult for a young girl to find a summer job. The waitressing job was one of the best jobs I have ever had. I learned so much that summer about myself, people of The Ruralhood and about people all around the world.