Sex Sells
I was thinking about my first job today. The job I had over the summer between junior high and high school. That was the summer I turned 15 and had my eye on a two piece bathing suit at a trendy store in the mall. I needed $50 to buy this bikini. That was a lot of money back when I was in high school.
I don't remember who told me about the job opening in the food court but I went over and put in an application. I was especially excited because it paid $4.75 per hour when minimum wage was $3.35. I was going to be making bank and my first paycheck would be allotted for the pink and black bikini in the window at Contempo.
I got a phone call a day or so later to come in for an interview. The manager was a senior in high school and told me that she wanted to hire me but before she could she needed to take a Polaroid picture of me to send to corporate for approval. I laugh now at how blatant that was and how much trouble the company would get into for that sort of practice today. Anyway, after corporate approved my Polaroid, I was a proud employee of Hot Dog on a Stick. Yes, I had to wear the ridiculous hat and outfit to match.
What a genius idea...hire young girls in shorts and tank tops and have them sell wieners in the mall. There was always a line, business was good. Especially when we were "stomping" lemonade. For those of you who aren't familiar with how Hot Dog on a Stick makes their lemonade, here is a description: Dump the lemons, sugar, water and secret ingredient (I still feel a proprietary responsibility not to divulge the "secret ingredient," lol) into a large container (big plastic garbage can), then we had a "stomper" (a metal pole with a slanted disc on the bottom) with handle bars at the top (think pogo stick) that we had to jump on to crush the lemons and make the lemonade. It kind of looked like we were operating a manual jackhammer.
Now I can't say for certain that having at least a "C" cup bra size was a job requirement but all the girls working there seemed to be future Hooter girls candidates. *snicker* Needless to say, when we were stomping lemonade, we drew a crowd. I remember one day when I was working alone and stomping lemonade (mind you it had to be made fresh every two hours and in plain view of the public; no hiding in the back room to make it) when an older man approached the counter. Thinking he was waiting to place an order, I put aside the stomper and washed my hands and asked what he would like to order and his response was, "Oh, nothing. I'm just watching."
Ewww...pervert. That job was my first lesson in "sex sells." At one point they tossed out the idea that we should wear French cut bathing suits while performing our duties. My mother said I would have to quit if it came to that, but that proposal never came to fruition.
So, I bought the bathing suit after my first check and spent the rest of the summer getting paid to be ogled by old men and teenage boys. Not a bad gig for a 15 year old. If they had installed a pole shaped like a hot dog we might have gotten better tips.
I don't remember who told me about the job opening in the food court but I went over and put in an application. I was especially excited because it paid $4.75 per hour when minimum wage was $3.35. I was going to be making bank and my first paycheck would be allotted for the pink and black bikini in the window at Contempo.
I got a phone call a day or so later to come in for an interview. The manager was a senior in high school and told me that she wanted to hire me but before she could she needed to take a Polaroid picture of me to send to corporate for approval. I laugh now at how blatant that was and how much trouble the company would get into for that sort of practice today. Anyway, after corporate approved my Polaroid, I was a proud employee of Hot Dog on a Stick. Yes, I had to wear the ridiculous hat and outfit to match.
What a genius idea...hire young girls in shorts and tank tops and have them sell wieners in the mall. There was always a line, business was good. Especially when we were "stomping" lemonade. For those of you who aren't familiar with how Hot Dog on a Stick makes their lemonade, here is a description: Dump the lemons, sugar, water and secret ingredient (I still feel a proprietary responsibility not to divulge the "secret ingredient," lol) into a large container (big plastic garbage can), then we had a "stomper" (a metal pole with a slanted disc on the bottom) with handle bars at the top (think pogo stick) that we had to jump on to crush the lemons and make the lemonade. It kind of looked like we were operating a manual jackhammer.
Now I can't say for certain that having at least a "C" cup bra size was a job requirement but all the girls working there seemed to be future Hooter girls candidates. *snicker* Needless to say, when we were stomping lemonade, we drew a crowd. I remember one day when I was working alone and stomping lemonade (mind you it had to be made fresh every two hours and in plain view of the public; no hiding in the back room to make it) when an older man approached the counter. Thinking he was waiting to place an order, I put aside the stomper and washed my hands and asked what he would like to order and his response was, "Oh, nothing. I'm just watching."
Ewww...pervert. That job was my first lesson in "sex sells." At one point they tossed out the idea that we should wear French cut bathing suits while performing our duties. My mother said I would have to quit if it came to that, but that proposal never came to fruition.
So, I bought the bathing suit after my first check and spent the rest of the summer getting paid to be ogled by old men and teenage boys. Not a bad gig for a 15 year old. If they had installed a pole shaped like a hot dog we might have gotten better tips.
Mitz - so funny, I totally forgot you were a "lemonade stomper"! I loved reading your teenage memoir. Keep up the great blog, girl!
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Hey Traci - Those were the good old days when I was too naive to realize the money to be made just on your looks!! Thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciate it! Love ya!
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Yup, Hot Dog on a Stick is my choice of mall food - it's my favorite. If I knew you were one of those girls I would have had you made me some of those hot dogs! I often wondered about those "stompers" and noticed there weren't any "boys" working there. They should automate that and get automatic squeezers. Geez...
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Hey Annette, By mall standards, their food was definitely the best way back when. I have to say the quality control was fierce! I wonder how they justify not hiring any "boys" in this day and age? I'm sure their hiring practices have changed but they still make lemonade by hand and have girls dipping hot dogs in batter, lol! I guess if it ain't broke, don't fix it! Ha!
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That's funny and fits in well with my theories on the levels of creepiness. I had a deprived adolescence; we only had an Orange Julius in our mall.
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You missed out! Every young boy should be exposed to Hot Dog on a Stick, haha! Thanks for reading and commenting.
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