The first job I ever had that paid a paycheck was for the local street and sanitation dept. It was a little fiefdom and the mayor, a friend of my father's, told them to hire me. Not the best recipe for an open arms welcome to the smart ass rich (comparatively) kid. The first day I was the underground man on a clogged up manhole, about 4' deep in "stuff", and my tools were a shovel with most of the handle amputated and a tin bucket on a rope. I was also the only man on the job. For 8 hours. And I had to ride home in the truck bed, but it solved the acceptance problem just fine... They had a goat bbq for me (we used goats on the steeps that you couldn't mow) when I went back to school in the fall. And my going away present was an amputated shovel and a tin bucket with a rope...