I grew up working at my family’s fine men’s clothing store in Detroit, Michigan. The store was open for just under 50 years, depending on how you counted it. The tailor shop was a perfect model for my book typesetting business.
I would beg my parents to let me work at the store, and was successful at least 20 hours per week starting in high school until the store closed when I was at University of Michigan (B.A. in English). My grandfather always paid my brother and I a few dollars to pick up pins from the dressing rooms when were were little kids. My first real job!
Every customer who walks in the door is the most important person in the world. Even as a young child, I knew that I had to disappear as soon as a customer walked in the door. My mother would send me home to change my clothes if she didn’t like what I was wearing. She was paying me after all! All of the salesmen were dressed in beautiful suits with silk ties and handkerchiefs.
I did whatever my mother or father told me to do at the store, but of course, never at home. And they paid me $5.75/hour to go home and change my clothes. Pretty good deal for everyone.