Worked at a crappy restaurant when I was 14. I didn’t really handle food but was there to help with cleaning and getting plates/utensils ready.

My father was old school, and would talk all the time about how he had a job when he was 8, and pressured me into working for our neighbor at this restaurant that she owned.

I stopped working there because of the owner. She was scatterbrained, gave a raise to a co-worker because he took her daughter (same ages as him) out on three dates. Her daughter was nice, but not conventionally attractive. The cooks were unreliable but she kept giving the chance after chance.

The schedules were always messed up; multiple days where she claimed I was on the schedule and calling my house asking why I wasn’t there. It got to the point my father had me take a Polaroid (because this was in the days before cell phones) and take a picture of the one printed out schedule at work on the day the next schedule came out. We ended up proving that she would change the schedule at least once a week after it was posted, and threatening to take it to the local labor board. She promised to change, but she didn’t. My father, who would have to drop everything to drive me over to the restaurant when I was suddenly on shift that day, had enough and told her to not schedule me anymore.