Minimum Wage Memories

THE PAY WAS LOW. The days were long. But when you grow up at the Jersey Shore, there’s something a little magical about your first summer job. This month, readers and contributors share the stories behind their very first paycheck.

JEN MUNDIE, Manasquan

My first summer job was as a lifeguard at the town pool in Springfield, New Jersey, when I was 15. It all seemed very glamorous to me as I was envisioning Wendy Peffercorn from The Sandlot. It was mostly a lot of boredom during those 12 to 8 p.m. shifts but also lots of sun and fun! The whole staff used to sneak into the pool after hours to have parties. I don’t think I ever confessed that to my parents, but I guess the secret is out now!

ERINNE REGAN, Brielle

Landing my first summer job was a rite of passage: equal parts thrilling and nerve-wracking. I was fourteen, armed with more enthusiasm than experience, and landed a position making specialty donuts at a newly opened local shop. I thought it would be all sprinkles and smiles, but within the first hour, I quickly learned fresh donuts are HOT, frosting is deceptively sticky and powdered sugar is sneaky. The days were sweet, filled with the laughter of kids and the occasional chaos of long lines in the heat. I learned how to manage a register, smile through stress and decorate donuts like a pro. Despite the chaos (and a few brief incidents with the donut machine), I left each shift smelling like a deep fryer and feeling like a hero—one donut at a time.

PAT RUSSO, Wall

Many years ago, I had my first job at a new defunct movie theater in Ocean County called Cinema Alley. The theater really lived up to its name. There were two screens in a weird little venue that was literally at the back of a dark alley.

My older sister had been working there for a while. I was never even hired officially, but the theater was so understaffed that sometimes my sister had me come to work with her, so that there was somebody to help sell concessions while she sold tickets. I never signed any paperwork and the whole thing was completely under the table.

Some of the weeknights were so slow that we’d only sell one or two tickets. I definitely remember one movie that played to mostly empty theaters: Jaws Part 4: The Revenge. There was one very slow night in late August when we didn’t sell a single ticket, so naturally, I just wandered into the back of the theater and took a seat and watched the movie.

It was the first time I had ever seen any of the Jaws movies, and it left me completely traumatized. The next time my family went to the beach, I couldn’t even go near the water. Our mom nearly called the theater owner to complain that they were letting their underage and off-the-books employees watch gory horror movies.

Ironically, if you ever see that movie through grown-up eyes, it’s terrible. It’s not the least bit scary.

MOLLY MECHLER, Spring Lake

My first summer job was at Beach Break Ice Cream Shop on the Belmar boardwalk. A local spot known for its sandy floors, long lines and the constant hum of excitement from beachgoers. It was June of 1992, school had just let out and I was ready for a season of scooping ice cream, swirling soft serve and blending milkshakes.

I had just perfected my soft serve twist when, in an instant, everything changed. The familiar sounds of summer were suddenly drowned out by shouting, breaking glass, and the wail of sirens. MTV had sponsored a concert by the hip-hop duo Kris Kross, and just minutes into their set, the event spiraled into chaos as riots broke out. I remember the scene vividly; crowds of concertgoers flooded the boardwalk, their carefree energy replaced by panic and confusion. My coworkers and I quickly locked the shop’s front windows and doors, watching in disbelief as Belmar’s relaxed beach front turned tense, surreal and genuinely frightening.

It was my first real taste of unpredictability and crisis. Staying calm under pressure, crouching behind the counter and waiting (not so) patiently for my dad to come get me taught me more than how to master the perfect soft serve swirl. That job gave me a story I’ve told for years and marked the beginning of a summer I’ll never forget. And if there’s one thing that’s stuck with me ever since, it’s this: No matter how chaotic life gets, always make time for ice cream.

ANNA CATHERINE PELLIGRA, Manasquan

Lifeguarding with the Manasquan Beach Patrol for a full decade was, without a doubt, the best summer job and office I could have ever had. As a Manasquan local, getting to protect and serve the very beaches I grew up on made the experience especially meaningful. The job demanded a high level of responsibility—from staying alert during crowded beach days to responding swiftly in emergency situations—it also came with a sense of pride and purpose. My background in competitive swimming gave me the confidence and skillset to excel in the water, while the structured shifts and training sessions taught me valuable responsibility and time management skills that I still use today as an attorney and business owner.

Beyond the professionalism and responsibility, lifeguarding at Manasquan was about community. The beach patrol quickly became like a second family; I formed lifelong friendships with fellow guards who shared my commitment to keeping beachgoers safe. Whether we were setting up the stands at sunrise, training together for lifeguard tournaments, or simply enjoying a post-shift surf session, there was a deep bond forged through shared experiences. It was a job that challenged me, shaped me and gave me unforgettable summers—and for that, I’ll always consider it the best job I’ve ever had.

CLARA SEIGLER, Lake Como

I was 14 when I took a job as an assistant lifeguard at a public pool. It was the summer between junior high and high school. Technically, there was a training period, which consisted of CPR instruction, swimming tests, etc. A big part of that training was swimming to the bottom of the deep end and picking up weights.

But once I started, I definitely felt out of my depth (so to speak). I was a timid kid to begin with, and I started to dread the idea of actually having to rescue anybody. There’s a big difference between collecting inanimate objects from the bottom of a pool and rescuing a human body. I began to get startled and cringed every single time a kid screamed, and you know how public pools are. There are kids screaming all day long.

I had originally applied for the job because the pool was in our neighborhood, and I could walk there. (This was two whole years before I learned to drive.) I began to feel like there was something very weird about being paid to protect strangers from drowning when I was too young to drive.

RICK BUTTAFOGO, BookTowne bookseller

I remember my first job ever. My oldest brother worked as a bellhop at the Sheraton Hotel. It was summer, and little league started up. He didn’t want to lose his job while playing baseball, so he gave me his schedule...and I just went in to work for him wearing his uniform. LOL. No one hired me. I simply punched in his card. When he got paid, he gave it to me. $2.57/hour. Yep. I totally remember it.

SUSAN KUPER, BookTowne bookseller

When I was 15, I started my first job at Baskin-Robbins in the mall. I was in charge of scooping ice cream and making ice cream pies. The pies— like Turtle, Almond Fudge and Mint Chocolate Chip—were tricky. The key was timing. You had to press the ice cream into the frozen crust before it started to thaw, or the crust would crack, and the whole pie would be ruined.

One day during my shift, I started making a Mint Chocolate Chip pie. But just as I got started, a family came in, and I got totally distracted scooping cones and handing out samples. By the time I got back to the pie, it was too late. I tried to finish it, but the crust cracked and fell apart.

I panicked. Since I was still pretty new, I was afraid of messing up and getting into trouble. So, I did the only thing I could think of—I hid the ruined pie in the bottom of the freezer, and, on my break, I ate the whole thing to get rid of the evidence.

I haven’t eaten mint chocolate chip ice cream since.

PETER, BookTowne owner

I worked summers at The Yankee Peddler Inn as a server. One Sunday, my whole family surprised me for brunch, and as I was clearing the table of metal silver chargers, plates and utensils on one big tray, I approached the kitchen swing door that we had to go through, with four steps up to the kitchen. I kicked that swing door a little too hard… made it up two steps before the swing door swung back and clipped the back of my tray. Not only did everything fall and smash, but there was an extended commotion as silver chargers kept tumbling down the stairs back into the dining room.

My grandmother, sitting at the table and covering her ears said, “Don’t worry nothing broke!”

BY M+B STAFF