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In the summer of 1942, when I was twelve,
I found myself selling newspapers on the streets of Anyway, the good news was that I made a penny for each paper I sold. The bag my eighty pound body had to carry was so heavy I struggled with every step. One morning I sat down to rest on the curb in front of Scaggs Grocery Store and my boss happened to drive by. He rolled the window down and yelled, “You’re canned.” That’s all! Of course I didn’t know what that meant but guessed it must be something good because I was so proud of my job. When my mother told me I had been fired I was devastated. No matter. I soon got the dream job of being the only dishwasher at the Totem Café. Well, that meant getting up at 0430 to be on the job at 0500, and sixteen hours later my shift ended and I was eight bucks richer. Each dish and pan had to be washed by hand, dipped in scalding water and dried by hand. Whew! My hands turned white and had deep canyons in them.
A wonderful old
lady, Miss Mary, was my co-worker. She made cherry and apple
pies, and they smelled
sooo good. One day, during the lull between
breakfast and lunch, I apprehended one of her pies, tip-toed it out back
behind a tree and ate the whole thing. When Old Fred, the boss, caught
me, there was a severe scene. Miss Mary said she gave me the pie, but no
one believed her, and I was fired for “stealing.” While I was drying my
eyes the cook reminded Old Fred that there was no one to wash the
dishes, so he quickly capitulated and rehired me. It felt so good to be
needed. I won’t mention anything more about that pie thing except to say
that the precedent had been set. Ha! I grew to love that old Miss Mary.
Forrest Fenn
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