In 1975 I was working at a full-service neighborhood Texaco shop. It was a small place with 6 pumps and 3 mechanic bays. I started-out pumping gas and doing oil changes and tire repair either in the drive or in one of the bays. I had to wear a green or blue jump suit. All cars got oil checked, widows washed and optionally tires checked and filled. The other 2 bays had lifts and we did full-service repairs. After a year, the owner (and chief mechanic) broke away from the franchise and stopped selling gas. I worked there for the next 4 years repairing anything/everything that came our way while finishing automotive trade school.
The shop was very honest and did quality work. What I disliked the most about doing auto work is everyone complaining about the cost of gas and the cost of repair bills. People would be shouting and making accusations before you even touched their car.
I started-out at $2.10/hour and ended-up at $3.75/hour. Chicago winters and summers in that job were brutal. At the end, I worked 1 year at a Chevy dealership and quit the business because all the mechanics were dying of cancer and other nasty illnesses. Got a job doing photography work in the city and went to night school studying math and electrical engineering. The rest is history...
Ray