Herbert List, Stefano, Forio Island Of Ischia Italy, 1952

Gas Station

The Summer Job Mishap

Jack, Ethan, and Ryan had it all planned out. This was supposed to be the summer where they ruled the beach—lifeguard chairs perched high above the sand, sunglasses resting coolly on their noses, muscles gleaming under the sun. They could already picture it: girls in bikinis admiring them, running to their rescue as they flexed and showed off their best Baywatch slow-motion jogs.

But, as boys often do, they procrastinated.

"Relax, man," Dylan had said weeks earlier, thumbs furiously working his video game controller. "There’s no way they’re filling up all the lifeguard spots. Who wouldn’t want guys like us out there?"

So they waited. And waited. And played just one more round of their game. By the time they finally got around to applying, they were met with a soul-crushing response from the beach manager:

"All lifeguard positions have been filled.

So, by the time they finally got around to filling out the applications, the positions were long gone. Every single lifeguard job had been snapped up—by girls.

“That’s not fair,” Ethan groaned as they saw the final list posted at the community center. “I can’t believe this,” Jack said, watching as a group of girls—ones they had hoped to impress—high-fived each other, already decked out in their new lifeguard uniforms.

“Guess we’ll have to find something else,” Ryan sighed.

However, we still have a few summer jobs left, if you’re interested."

"Accepted." A job was a job, right? How bad could it be?

The problem? The only available positions were in domestic services.

The town’s wealthiest summer homeowners—bourgeois families who vacationed in their grand beachside estates—needed housekeepers, babysitters, and domestic help. These were jobs traditionally filled by girls. And with all the local girls now employed as lifeguards, the wealthy families had no choice but to start hiring boys.

It was embarrassing enough that their friends would be spending the summer saving lives on the beach while they scrubbed floors, but it got worse when the boys received their uniform.

“What… what is this?” Jack asked, holding up a frilly black and white outfit.

The housekeeper supervisor, a stern older woman, barely glanced at him. “Your uniform.” It was a full-fledged French maid dress—complete with a white apron, puffy sleeves, and a short, ruffled skirt. The homeowners insisted on strict uniform policies for their help.

“This is a maid’s outfit,” he said in horror.

“Yes. You’re a housekeeper. Housekeepers wear uniforms.”

Ethan snorted. “Dude, you have to wear that?”

“Shut up,” Jack muttered, his face burning.

 “No exceptions,” the supervisor said when Ryan tried to protest.

And so, instead of strutting down the beach in board shorts, sunglasses, and confidence, the boys found themselves in frilly black dresses, knee-high stockings, and uncomfortable shoes.

Their first days on the job were mortifying.

Babysitting, Ethan quickly learned, wasn’t just about watching kids. It was diaper duty, tea parties, and getting bossed around by a five-year-old in a princess dress.

Jack and Ryan, meanwhile, were scrubbing floors and dusting chandeliers while trying to avoid mirrors that reflected their absurd outfits.

To make matters worse, the girls—the same ones they had hoped to impress at the beach—found out about their new jobs very quickly.

One afternoon, as Jack was dusting a massive bookshelf in the living room, the front door swung open.

“Jack?”

He turned slowly, his face draining of color. It was Lisa, one of the new lifeguards—and his longtime crush.

“Oh my God,” Lisa gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth before bursting into laughter. “Is that… is that you?”

Jack wanted to melt into the floor.

Ryan wasn’t any luckier. He had the misfortune of being assigned to the service of the teenage daughter—one who found his situation endlessly amusing.

“Turn around,” she smirked, taking a picture with her phone.

“No pictures,” Ryan snapped, snatching the feather duster out of her hand.

“Oh, come on. It’s not every day you see a guy in a maid dress.”

 “I hate this summer,” Ethan muttered.

Meanwhile, at the Beach…

As the boys struggled into their frilly, lace-trimmed dresses, real lifeguards took their posts at the beach. And to their horror, those lifeguards were all girls.

Their female classmates, who had actually applied on time, were now strutting around in sleek red swimsuits, sunglasses perched on their noses, confidently scanning the waves, and acting like beach heroes.

"Look at us, ladies," Claire, the new head lifeguard, grinned as she twirled her whistle. "Getting paid to tan, swim, and be heroes. This job is so much better than babysitting or cleaning some rich guy’s house."

"Yeah, can you imagine the boys stuck in those jobs?" another girl laughed. "They must be miserable!"

A Humiliating Day at Work

Back at the mansion, the boys were indeed miserable.

"Ow! Stop squirming, you little—!" Jake yelped as the bratty five-year-old he was babysitting yanked on his apron strings.

"Uh… excuse me?" Dylan said hesitantly as he stood in the kitchen, eyeing a list of complicated recipes. "Isn’t there, like… a pizza delivery option?"

"No," the head cook snapped. "Now get chopping!"

Ryan, meanwhile, was furiously scrubbing floors, his frilly skirt swishing humiliatingly with every movement. "I cannot believe this is happening," he muttered.

The boys spent the next few weeks enduring relentless teasing, long hours of work, and the crushing realization that they had brought this upon themselves. They watched in bitter jealousy as their female friends got to enjoy the sun, the ocean, and the admiration of beachgoers while they were stuck in high-class mansions serving as the help.

But, strangely enough, something else happened too.

They actually got good at their jobs. Jack learned how to clean faster and more efficiently. Ryan figured out how to negotiate extra breaks. Ethan, despite his grumbling, became surprisingly skilled at dealing with tantrums—and even earned the trust of the kids he babysat.

By the end of summer, when they finally took off their ridiculous uniforms for the last time, they had to admit (though never out loud) that they had learned a few things.

Still, next year? They were applying for lifeguard jobs first.

Abiah Hostvedt and Martin Conte by Georgia Nerbeim for Schön Magazine