After my junior year of high school came to a close, my parents decided it was about time that I got a job. My mom had always lectured me about how I should do something productive with my life, but I only wanted to play video games. What was wrong with that? A lot of things, according to my Mom.

Whenever she would bring the subject up, I would scoff, “Yeah, okay, sure,” and canter away. I thought to myself that there was no way she would ever convince me to get a job.

One day, while I was eating dinner, my mom brought up the idea of me getting a job again.

“Honey,” she began, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but… it’s about time you got a job.”

I was about to change the subject, but she cut me off.

“Now, before you say anything more, there’s this nice place just around the corner from our house called Devin’s Burgers. Just search them up online and click the link that says ‘Devin’s Hiring.’ I would check them out. They seem like a pretty cool place to get your first job at.”

Even though my mother could see I was annoyed out of my mind, she still had a big smile on her face and seemed very enthusiastic about the whole thing. Seeing that she would just keep bothering me about this, I applied online. Only a few days later, they called me in for an interview. I went to the interview and planned to mess around and act as if I was crazy to avoid being hired, but then I saw my mom staring right at me from a nearby table. Only a mother would follow her teenage boy to a job interview and watch from afar how it went. Because I did not want to upset her and also feared that she would accuse me of blowing the interview intentionally, I acted enthusiastic about getting the job, just as she instructed, I told the manager about all of my achievements, and I bragged about my skills.

I sincerely hoped that I would not get the job, but I got an email the following week that I had been hired and that my first day of work would be the following day. I thought about lying to my Mom that they did not hire me, but then she would just make me apply for a job somewhere else. Or even worse, she would call the store owner and embarrass me by asking why I was not hired. Seeing that there was no way out of the situation, I told my mom the “good news” and went into Devin’s Burgers the following day to start my first day of work.

When I arrived, the manager gave me a uniform and told me to work at the grill. I just stared at the grill; I never cooked anything on a grill before. Oh, great. This job is going to be a disaster. It seemed no one was going to instruct me what to do, so I asked Kreg, who was busy preparing the sandwiches.

“Um, excuse me?” I beckoned. “What am I supposed to do at the grill?”

After rolling his eyes because I didn’t know how to cook anything, Kreg showed me what to do. He was very busy and did not seem to be in the mood to help someone else.

For better or worse, I got the hang of it quickly and understood that it was my job to cook the meat patties on the grill, put spices on the meat, put them in a tray, and hand the tray to Kreg. It did not seem too hard.

“Hey, how long until the next set of patties are up?” Kreg would beseech occasionally, getting annoyed quickly when I did not have the meat done fast enough. It was my first day, and already the workers were expecting a lot from me. No matter how fast I tried to work, it seemed that customers’ stomachs were always ahead of me, and Kreg continuously got more frustrated.

Feeling like I was losing an unwinnable battle, I felt it was my worst nightmare when the manager came to see how I was doing.

“This guy’s no help at all,” Kreg told the manager.

The manager stared right into my eyes for a few seconds.

“We’re gonna send you to take orders instead,” the manager commanded with an intimidating look. He pointed towards the window where Jerry was cashing people out.

“Okay,” I conceded.

“Well, we just don’t want to stand around all day, do we? Let’s get going!” he chided, raising his voice and still glaring at me.

I paced towards the window and deliberated whether the manager was angry with me and if he thought I was an incompetent worker. I started to wonder about what my mom would think if I got fired on my first day.

Unlike working at the grill where I had to ask someone who was already loaded with work what to do, this time Maria who was already a pro at taking orders was there to help me. The menu was a cluttered mess with small icons of sandwiches representing the different menu items all over the place. Luckily, Maria seemed like a caring person and did not seem to be in a bad mood like Kreg was.

After taking orders for a little while, I started to get the hang of it. I was feeling pretty confident until Maria suddenly strolled out of the room without saying a word, leaving me on my own.

I tried to take a deep breath and gathered my confidence by telling myself that my mother was right. Maybe I could be productive with my life and succeed at a job.

Taking orders had been pretty smooth sailing after Maria left, with some customers becoming impatient when I took too long to find the sandwich they were looking for on the menu. But, otherwise, for my first day, I thought everything was going well. I started to realize that getting a job was not so bad after all. Working for the first time made me ruminate that important life skills are acquired at the workplace and not in front of a video screen.

At the window next to me, Jerry was handling transactions and sending people to the next window to pick up their food. He seemed to be about 20 years old. When there was a break between customers, I started watching Jerry to see what it was like to handle money.

Since the drive-thru at Devin’s Burgers had two lanes, the person at the window needed to verify what people ordered before cashing them out. Otherwise, the wrong order could be charged.

As I was watching Jerry, it came to my attention that he was not verifying what the customers ordered. He simply tapped the first order on the screen, collected the money, and sent the customers to the next window.

As a gray convertible pulled up to the window, Jerry told the driver, a man in his mid-40s, that his total was $2.99. Without a second thought, the man paid with his credit card and said he did not want a receipt. Jerry put his receipt, along with the other receipts customers did not want, into the trash can next to him. The convertible continued to the next window. A red Sudan approached the window, and the woman driving took out her credit car and held it up to Jerry. “11.97,” Jerry pronounced.

The woman’s eyes narrowed and she took back her credit card.

“Um, I just got the bacon burger and it's only $2.99.”

“Oh,” muttered Jerry, as he looked through the orders on the screen. He seemed worried for a second, then picked up the receipt of the last car from the trash can. He looked at it for a second, then looked back at the lady.

“Just the bacon burger?” Jerry queried.

“Yep,” the lady responded with a warm smile.

Jerry looked at the receipt again. “2.99,” he reaffirmed.

The lady gave the man her credit card, and he pressed the order for $11.97 on the screen. He swiped her credit card and threw away the receipt that was printed.

“Would you like your receipt?” he asked as he held out the receipt from the $2.99 order.

“No, thanks,” she said as she smiled. “Have a good day!” As the lady pulled away, Jerry smirked and chuckled under his breath.

Seeing Jerry charge the woman for the wrong order sent shivers down my spine. I had no idea workers at a professional business would ever do something like that.

As I continued watching Jerry, I became even more alarmed. At first, it seemed like Jerry had made a mistake and just wanted the easy way out of it. As the day went on, however, Jerry continued to purposely charge people for the wrong orders. Every time he would get away with it and the car would drive to the next window, Jerry would chuckle under his breath as if it was some sick game to him. Every time he would look at me to see if I noticed, I would suddenly look away as if I was not paying attention.

I started to feel afflicted, and I contemplated what to do. I thought about what my mom would have wanted me to do in the situation and reasoned that telling the manager was the right thing to do, but I was unsure if he would believe me since it was my first day. Even if I did tell the manager, Jerry would likely lie about it, and if he was a loyal worker, I could get fired for “lying.” There was really no proof that Jerry cashed people out wrong as the correct amount of money would be on the computerized register. Some customers won, and others lost depending on Jerry’s desire.

As my shift rolled to an end, I went to clock out, and I thought again about what Jerry had done and if I should tell the manager or not. It was not my responsibility that the woman in the red Sudan lost money, nor any of the other customers, but it would have been the right thing to do.

Still contemplating my decisions, I walked over to the manager.

“So, you’re done with your shift, huh?” he grumbled.

“Um, yes,” I murmured. The manager was starting to get on my nerves. He was intense and angry-looking.

“Well, I will see you back here tomorrow,” he sighed as he walked past me.

I stood in place for a few seconds, paralyzed about what to do.

The manager whipped around. “Why are you just standing there? Don’t you want to go home?” he gibed, raising his voice again.

At that moment, I started to realize that telling the manager about the situation was not a good idea at all. He probably would not have believed me and might have fired me on the spot. I briskly walked out of the restaurant and went home.

Back at home, I weighed whether I should tell my mom about the events at Devin’s or not.

“Hey honey, how did your first day at work go?” my mom implored.

If I told my mom about what happened at work, she would likely tell the manager, and I would be embarrassed and may even get fired. I already thought it was enough to submit an application, go in for an interview, and labor all day learning how to cook on the grill and take orders. I did not feel like doing all that again. What if someone did the same thing at another place?  I pondered if it really would be a bad thing if no one found out what happened at all. It was just a few dollars here and there, I reasoned. I decided that some things were just meant to be put under the rug.

“Oh, just fine, Mom,” I remarked.

“Did anything happen?”

“Nope. Nothing at all. Everything was just how it should have been.”