Mine was at a Mexican grocery store in Chicago, in the summer of 1993 when I was 15. It was owned by a couple who were really nice people from what I still remember, and they made me enjoy working there.
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I had a paper route when I was 11. That winter I came down with an ear infection and tonsillitis that left me permanently deaf in my left ear. Quite a price to pay for about $5 a week.
