The following is my first attempt at a
serial. Later I will hopefully add many installments and introduce
many characters. All of it is true and occurred at my first place of
employment. I hope it's as entertaining now as it was nearly 20 years
ago when most of happened...
She was older than me. Quite a bit
older.
I was 15 and it was my first day joining the
wonderful American workforce. I had gangled my way down the long
corridor to the employee lounge where the time clock was bolted to a
wall and punched in. For the first time in my life I was on the clock
and something about that felt powerful. Every moment I spent that
first evening in my short-sleeved light blue striped shirt and navy
shorts felt like a million bucks...that's because it was a
million bucks, or at least it would have been after 200,000 hours.
Now it's illegal to pay a $5 wage in Oregon, or anywhere in the US
for that matter, but on that day in that place when I was 15 and she
was much older than me it was empowering and wonderful and I felt alive.
Her name was Francis...but let me back up a bit here...
Adam McKenzie was one of my best
friends in middle school and high school. He was one of those guys
that was good at everything. He ALWAYS made straight A's. He was tall
and good looking. He was a solid athlete. He came from an amazing
family. And he was the first of my friends to get an actual, real
life, paying job. You see, his brother was a food server and was able
to put in a good word with Rosalie who hired Adam in a snap. When
you're paying $5/hour and you find a good employee, you take his word
when he recommends another person eager to serve.
Despite being in the same grade Adam
was a year older than me, so it was natural for him to find
employment first. And it was after he was hired that I began to
notice something different about him. It seemed that every time he
wanted to do something such as “eat lunch” or “go to the
movies” he could. Why? Because he had these strange little green
rectangles in his wallet that he told me were called “money” and
he could actually trade these slips of paper for pretty much anything
he wanted if he had enough of them.
Well, the style in the early 90's
didn't include any tailed coats, but I'm here to tell you that didn't
stop me from instantly riding Adam McKenzie's coattails right to his
boss for an interview. Now what was it I was saying about Adam? Oh
right, he was good at everything and, fortunately for me, that
included being a model employee. So like his brother before him, his
word to Rosalie was as good as gold for the beneficiary and in this
particular instance that beneficiary was me.
After filling out my very first
application, having my very first interview and completing my very
first W-2 I was ready to make my very first taxable income. I
nervously walked my skinny legs into the kitchen that first day,
worried to death because Adam wasn't working that shift. I was told
to ask for Toby.
“I'm Toby. Put on a hairnet,” said
a small, mid-20's, possibly recovering drug addict, certainly living
in a trailer, GIRL. (Years later I would have a similar situation
come up on my first day working at Oswego Lake Country Club...the day
I sought out my now very good male friend Jade to issue me my
uniform). The thing about Toby was that if life hadn't aged her so
prematurely she probably would have been pretty.
Wait...did she say “hairnet”?
So Toby was the Assistant Dining Room
Manager, or perhaps The Assistant to the Dining Room Manager or maybe
she was the Dining Room Manager who was the understudy to the Kitchen
Manager. In any case, Toby quickly showed me how to line up cups and
fill them with the correct beverages. Then it was time to hit the
floor.
You see, there were two sides to the food service business. There was the back of the house (the kitchen) where the food was prepared. And there was the front of the house (the dining room) where it was my job to put a smiling face on the establishment. After being learning some menial tasks in the back of the house, it was time to walk through that understated doorway from the heat of the industrial kitchen onto The Floor where the real action took place.
And that's when I met her. “Francis,
this is Keith” said Toby rather loudly. “What?”. “This is
KEITH!”. “What?” “KEITH!” Me: “Yes, I'm KEITH!”
Francis: “Oh, Keith...rhymes with teeth.” I laughed. “Don't
laugh, now I'm serious. Now I will never forget your name.” And, by
God, from that day for the next 5 years that 90 year old woman,
Francis, never did forget my name. I told you she was older than me.
And thus began my adventures working at
The Fountains at Town Center Village. I was about to find out just
how much fun assisted living could be.
