I had a paper route when I was 10. I did it for about a year till I got bit by a dog!

Baby sitting starting when I was 11. Also began walking an early morning paper delivery route when I was 12.

I did not much like either job, esp baby sitting, but greatly enjoyed the freedom that came with having my own spending money.

My favorite and first higher paying (than minimum wage) job was bartending/waitressing in my early twenties. It was so social and fun! I never recaptured that cameraderie anywhere else.

I mowed two cemeteries for the church where my father was pastor in very rural east Tennessee when I was 12 or 13.

Is this a joke question? All the answers sound like they could be on Comedy Central.

My very first job was picking Raspberries. After that worked in a cannery (Libby) during green bean season. Then I struck it rich and found a great job with Boeing. It was in the mock-up dept and my job title (still remember it) was electrical-rover-developer-prover.

The first time I earned money from a non-family-member, it was for moving furniture after school for an old guy who did furniture refinishing. There were other menial jobs but you only asked for the first.

Fast food place

At 16, I was a telephone solicitor, trying to sell products packaged by blind people. It was later discovered that the company was a big scam, but I didn't know that.

My first paid job was picking cotton. Our parents sent us out to pick cotton because they thought that would be good for our characters. We were not permitted to spend the money but had to put it in the bank.

Picking cotton is hot, grueling work for a youngster, and I developed patience, perseverance and persistence. I also learned to read my bank statements with pleasure, imparting to me a penchant for saving and investing. My ex-wives interpret that as miserliness. Take your pick.

The town kids spent their summers playing baseball, having fun and developing socially. I am somewhat of a social outlier—interpret that as you will.

All the other cotton pickers were Blacks. They treated me well and I became comfortable in their presence. To this day I love those folks.

My first job was working as a weed digger in the Manor House garden, plus helping the shepherd when he was busy. It was about as humble a job as you can get, but in a tiny village there is not much choice. But I loved being out in the gardens, and having my own money in my pocket at the weekend.