Every Job Was Just Training for This One

Every Job Was Just Training for This One

When I look back, my résumé doesn’t read like a ladder. It looks more like a back road — winding, twisting, full of unexpected turns. No straight lines. No clean plan. But every stop, every left turn, every dead end taught me something I carry into the work I do now.

You probably know a road like that too — the one in your hometown that never runs straight. The one that winds past fields, old houses, maybe a creek or a patch of woods. The road that feels like it’s going nowhere until you’ve driven it enough to know exactly where it leads. That’s how my path has felt.

My first real job was retail at Foot Locker. A teenager selling sneakers under fluorescent lights, dealing with every kind of person you can imagine. That’s where I learned how to talk to people. How to listen when someone told you what they wanted — and how to read the body language when what they really meant was something else. I learned how to keep going when you were on your feet all day, tired, and the sales weren’t just falling into your lap.

From there, I moved into manufactured housing at Palm Harbor. That was my first taste of the way families think when it comes to a big purchase. Buying a home wasn’t just about square footage and payments — it was about dreams, about roots. And it was about trust. If a family didn’t believe you had their back, the deal was dead before it started.

After that, the jobs came in waves. Marine sales and service. Low-voltage security systems. Surround sound and audio integration. A constant crash course in problem-solving under pressure. Projects with a hundred moving parts, deadlines that never bent, and the reality that no one wanted excuses — they wanted results. That’s where I learned to keep projects moving even when half the pieces didn’t show up on time.

Eventually, I built and ran my own home tech business. Recurring revenue before “smart homes” was even a buzzword. That was my MBA. Payroll waiting, phones ringing, customers expecting everything yesterday. Ownership doesn’t let you hide — you either figure it out or you fold.

And then there was the sea. My time as a charter captain in the Caribbean was a job, but really it was five jobs in one. I was a tour guide, a safety officer, a mechanic, a storyteller, and sometimes even a babysitter when seasickness hit. Every trip was its own storm — preparation could only get you so far, and adaptability carried the rest. Some days you were patching an engine while keeping clients calm. Other days you were holding the rail with a kid as they grinned at the shark they’d just pulled up. Every day was pressure. Every day was people.

Through it all, the common thread was this: there was always something to learn, and someone to learn from. A mentor who showed me how to close without forcing it. A coworker who had the kind of patience I hadn’t built yet. A business owner who never lost his cool when things went sideways.

Now, in real estate, I see it plain as day. None of those jobs were detours. They were bricks. Bricks I’ve been stacking for years. Each one taught me how to connect, how to listen, how to problem-solve, how to negotiate, how to build trust.

So when someone asks me, “How’d you end up here?” I don’t give them the polished version. I tell them the truth: it wasn’t a straight shot. It was that back road. The one that twists and turns, makes you wonder if you’re lost, then eventually drops you right where you’re meant to be. And I wouldn’t trade a single mile of it.