Papa Murphy's

I'm going to skip talking about babysitting and working in the church nursery since I don't consider them real jobs. So that brings me to the first job I had: pizza maker at Papa Murphy's Take n Bake Pizza. I worked here during the summer between Sophomore and Junior years in high school and while it started out great, things turned sour after a few months.

The job was simple enough: make pizzas. We didn't even have to bake them which made things even easier. You take the crust (which was pre-made by one of the managers), throw some sauce on it (which you had to weigh in order to get the amount right), toss some cheese on it (which was also weighed) and then whatever toppings the customer wanted. The toppings either had to be counted or measured just right so that each pizza was made to perfection and the inventory wasn't thrown off. Seriously easy stuff right?

Well, I had a manager who was somewhat of a dirty perv who carried a machete like knife with him everywhere he went. I think this guy was an escapee from a mental clinic because he had serious issues. Besides being a dirty perv, he also assumed that everyone else in the world is incompetent and that he could trust anyone to do anything. Thus the fact that he wouldn't let me work the cash register until I'd worked there for four months and had mastered my skills in Saran Wrap (wrapping the pizzas in Saran Wrap was not easy with the way it was set up and most of us incompetent employees spent months trying to perfect it to his standards).

By the time I had finally been promoted to work the cash register I decided it was time to stop working there. I had only planned on it being a summer job and my school load was pretty heavy that semester. Plus my friend Jen died and suddenly the thought of making pizzas under the supervision of a dirty perv manager didn't seem like a rewarding way to spend my time. So I gave my two weeks notice and hoped it would be a clean break. No such luck. The dirty perv begged me to stay. He went on to offer me his stereo if I stayed. I said no. He said I could have four free pizzas a week while the norm was one per week. I said no. He finally came to accept the situation and on my last day I went into his office to turn in my name badge and he grabbed my hand and told me that if I were ten years older, he would have asked to marry me. I don't remember how I responded to this, but I distinctly remember having the desire to throw up as I was driving home from that last shift.