Cheap Beer, Rich Thoughts: Leaving my first job and moving forward

Me pictured before a Miller Lite display at Prestige Liquors - the first place to employ me from 2013 to 2017. This was taken shortly before the first wedding I ever attended, my aunt's. It wasn't until age 21 I'd recognize two things: my intense love for the Chicago Bears and how great of a deal $11.99 for 24 cans of Miller Lite was in Illinois.

There's a time - or perhaps many times, I wouldn't know - in one's life where comfort breeds a bit of contempt in a gradual sense. Rather than downright hatred for something or downright frustration, one becomes a bit encased by the same, in submission to what they fear could only bring more comfort at one period of time and not the good kind. The kind of comfort that results in settling before one has started up, or worse, fooling themselves into thinking that the aforementioned comfort is not only workable but desirable.

It's for these reasons and many others, some to be mentioned, others to be kept to myself, that I've decided, after four years, I will be moving on from my first job - an unassuming liquor store in my sleepy suburban Illinois town. My experiences there have prompted the motivation to review some beer-related documentaries and even write a song or two, but with all that, it's time to close the curtains and end an era.

I can't remember a time when the store, known as Prestige Liquors as well as a few other choice names, wasn't a part of my life. I remember around age five running through its aisles and goofing off enough where my father, who has served as one of the store's main managers for over ten years, thought it was appropriate that I'd march into the store the next day to apologize to the owners. I also remember stopping in to bring my father dinner, in addition to helping him on deliveries where we'd supply the alcohol for weddings and gatherings all over what seemed to be the continental United States. Even as I grew older, I suppose imagining me working there was predictable. Bound to happen at one point, if only for a brief time, but who would've thought, right?

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It was the mere beginning of the summer of 2013, and I was a junior in high school on his way to being a senior. My parents decided I needed a job. After filling out a couple of unnecessarily long-winded applications for Toys-R-Us and Ultra Foods, in impulsive frustration, I asked my father if I could do anything at the liquor store. At that time, I had already been infrequently helping my father on aforementioned deliveries and late-night pickups at the same venues, being that alcohol couldn't be taken off the premises by partygoers, so I figured that my familiarity with the bosses and the crew would allow me an easy-in.

After a brief, wildly informal meeting with the two bosses, I was setup to work weekends from 3-11pm, for the most part, while remaining open for more hours during the week. It wasn't until I worked my first day, a grueling 1-11pm shift on a Saturday in June, that I realized how inept of an employee I truly was. Working with a longtime acquaintance who had been working at the store since 2000 and still works there to this day, I was, by contrast, an unmitigated disaster. 

I had a hard time pushing a two-wheeler cart with more than three cases of vodka on it, I found great difficulty maneuvering through narrow aisles formed by towering cases of product in the basement, and sweat and inexperience was enough for me to feel as worthless as ever.

The first year at the store was largely defined by me screwing up or underperforming at basic tasks, to which my coworkers were ordinarily patient with my blunders. It took me 45 minutes to mop up the contents of a 1.75L bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon that a customer broke on my second day on the job, I still had difficultly pushing a great deal of weight or cases on a handcart, let alone trying to slide the lip of the cart under a stack of cases, and the sheer level of exhaustion some days on the job were enough to send a person into a perpetual state of listlessness.

Keep in mind, these are all circumstances I do not consider unique to me. I think most young people go through this kind of challenge with their first job, especially if it involves a lot of manual labor. I distinctly remember my third day of work being marked by a four-minute rest in the icy coolers of the store thinking to myself, "I don't know how I'm going to be able to do this much longer."

The pace of the job killed me, the tasks sometimes seemed insurmountable without the assistance of another employee - especially when sending products up the conveyor belt to fill the shelves or checking off the contents of a godforsaken, poorly timed delivery. Only working three days out of the week meant I wasn't as knowledgeable about the whereabouts or even names of whiskeys, scotchs, craft beers, or tequilas, meaning I had to outsource a customer's request for assistance with my own request for assistance from another employee. I often felt that I was more of a liability than an employee.

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However, things change, skills develop, experience grows, and patience is a wonderful virtue for those who have the ability to adopt it. After about six months of working at the store, I began researching about the different times of beer, craft beer, vodkas, whiskeys, craft beer, and even a little bit of wine - enough to sell a customer on a bottle a bit out of their own personal comfort zone.

The research allowed me to at least become invested in what I was stocking and talk to the customers about what they were buying - something that would always get me scolded or ridiculed from my coworkers who felt all I was doing was avoiding responsibility. Right down to my last day at the liquor store, I can safely say, I never became good at not talking too much.

My research and hands-on experience with products has led me to develop a newfound appreciation for the alcohol industry, in addition to the myriad of choices and varieties at your average liquor store. I can hardly walk in one now without audibly declaring something like, "oh my god, they have 99 Peppermints 50 milliliter bottles!"

One of the many benefits of long-term employment is you can see a business grow and develop over the time you're there and have clout in which to reference when things really begin to change. In 2015, Prestige underwent a massive remodeling job that saw us get new coolers, new shelves, a new floor, a new operating system, a new security system, and several other small changes that completely morphed the way we operated. Under this new system, I felt much more like I did indeed belong, which would make sense seeing as I grew with it and helped it develop in very small ways.

I became more active in sales, and found success in turning customers on to new beers, both domestic and craft. I received two raises, a lot of high-praise from my bosses, and the last two years were marked by, I'd say, considerable growth for myself in maturity and prowess when working. Though it took two years, I found myself finally being able to dance to the beat of working at a liquor store.

The customers could inspire a blog themselves, and I'd bet some day they will. You get your usual clients who come in every day for the same thing, itching to buy one or two single cans of beer when you know they'll be back later in the day to buy two or three more. You get the men and women who pay in change, the ones who can't even pay at all, the ones who use miserably unconvincing fake IDs and get the choice of getting their ID sliced or the police getting called, the ones who walk around the store and touch every bottle, others who look at the high-end liquor and then by a 30 pack of Pabst Blue Ribbons cans on sale, and you get the ordinary band of partiers on Saturday nights torn between the decision to get "sloppy" off of Jose Cuervo or "classy" drunk off of Ciroc, of course depending on what their budget allows.

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It wasn't until around Christmas 2016 I began considering leaving Prestige upon entering my fourth year working there. There was no malice for the business, no real beef with any coworkers that lasted more than ten minutes, and no definitive moment that made me drop everything in total anger (I already did enough of that with expensive bottles unintentionally and with a level-head). After spending a good portion of winter break working at my college's radio station, WONC 89.1 FM, and getting paid to be an on-air DJ - just a bit less than what I was making at the liquor store - I felt there was a new summer opportunity calling.

This summer at WONC, I'll be hosting my newly officialized radio program "Sleepless with Steve" from 12-3am (CST) on Wednesday mornings, in addition to DJing on a regular basis. What will come after in September is still up for debate, as the radio doesn't pay during the school term. I've contemplated working at a couple local gambling halls, tobacco shops, video stores, or a park district for supplementary income, but I'm also planning on spending the summer searching for jobs or internships in my field of English and media writing.

If I enter the incoming school year without a job, I won't be too paranoid. The liquor store, in addition to outlets in the form of other local odd-jobs, has allowed me to build up a fairly comfortable nest-egg that allows for my bills to be paid and leisure to commence. Should another opportunity come around, you can bet another verbose blog will be in store.

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On a final note, don't be surprised to see the title of this blog again in the near future, as I'd like to turn some of my experiences working at the liquor into a novel I've been penning on and off for the better half of a year. There's a lot of observant comedy embedded in working at a liquor store, especially when you invoke a perspective like mine, which tends to be humanist and overly compassionate. 

In addition, as I walked through the aisles of Prestige one last time as an employee, I thought to myself how much I will miss the work I've done over the last four years, but not enough to prompt any kind of immediate regret or second-guessing. I think that's how you know you're making a decision you're comfortable with; although there is opportunity to overthink and be apprehensive, you don't feel either way and are comfortable moving forward. When you're young, it's better to leave a job before you get stuck than try to leave while you're stuck.

I want to thank each and everyone who has had to listen to me expound upon stories about working at the liquor store, in addition to those at Prestige, as it still goes strong today, for granting me the opportunity. It's been a wild four years that have spawned a lifetime of memories and insight about work and the unfathomably complex nature of people. Cheers!