Under the table jobs when I was too young to legally work:
Dishwasher (Turns out nearly every guy who grew up on my side of town ended up washing dishes in this same place, a mall pizza shop.)
Garbage man (Best friend’s dad owned a garbage company, so we got pressed into service on a regular basis for years.)
Database developer (Computerized and inventoried a comic book store.)
Newspaper delivery
Sunday school teacher/Awana leader
Legally paid positions:
Sales clerk at a by-the-pound candy chain. (1989)
Cook at a fast food burger chain (1990-1993)
Pharmacy technician/pharmacy stockman (1993-present)
Record store sales clerk (1993) (This was one of those “All of the employees are in bands” type record stores, where the only customers were other guys in bands.)
“Wares” guy at a thrift store chain (1994-1997) (I ran the donations door, as well as processed the non-clothing donations: culled what was immediately sellable, cleaned, tested, priced, and placed on the sales floor. Also loaded and unloaded trucks, did property cleaning and repair, car loading, ran auctions, etc. Interesting job, the most varied tasks I’ve ever had in a single position.)
Freelance author (sporadically through 2001) (Certainly not due to writing skills or lack thereof, but due to an understanding and appreciation of some dorky hobbies. I’ve sold a handful of articles over the years to various hobby magazines, with none published, though a paragraph from one ended up appearing intact within an unattributed video game review in Rolling Stone in 1999. Still no idea how that happened, though since I got paid for the original article, I wasn’t too concerned.)
Supplemental Instruction/SLA mentor (2005-present) (Student-teaching, essentially, for a variety of logic courses at my university.)
Oddest short-term thing:
Hair model for a day, 1997. Drove my (then) wife to the offices of her modeling agency, and they happened to need someone immediately for a volumizing shampoo demonstration. It was one of those things where I walked in, everyone stopped, looked at me, and someone said “perfect!” Made a few hundred dollars getting my head massaged and shampooed at a convention for hairdressers, and pissed my wife off.