If you'll remember from the previous story, we had just waved bye-bye to Buford and Ken as they went on to bigger and better opportunities after high school and the offer of a fascinating career at Foodway Grocery Store. The last I heard of them Ken had taken a job at a machine shop working a metal lathe and Buford got drafted. Their continued stories were probably much better than this one but this is the one you're stuck with reading.
With both the experienced guys gone, management had to rely on the up and coming leaders from the sack boy ranks. My friend, Rick, and I showed the most promising of the lot so we were each promoted to part-time checker and full-time stocker. We were given brand new price tag maker thingies, and new feather dusters, which we proudly displayed in our back pockets. We took our new roles seriously and never goofed off when management was watching. We remembered the plight of the sack boy and never gave any of them a hard time when we were called up to the front because too many customers were trying to checkout at once. Things were rocking along great. We loved our jobs, management loved us, and the sack boys all respected us and did as they were told. We never once, ever, lined a timid little inexperienced sack boy up to catch all the boxes being unloaded at the back....well, okay, we did it once but only for fun....and we stopped after just a few minutes. We did not demand this sack boy sneak out and steal deodorant for us after unloading a truck. We selected ours from the bent and damaged basket like the honorable guys we were...and, we selected it ourselves before we started unloading the truck. We did not share it with the timid little sack boy however. Some things need to be learned by experience.
Rick and I were serious about our stocking responsibilities. We would walk the store, particularly during a busy day, to make sure shelves were stocked and floors were clear of clutter. One day the produce department announced a day long sale to celebrate the upcoming Thanksgiving Holiday. The department was hit hard with shoppers so around six in the evening we were asked to check it out to make sure it was still in good shape. Mr. Rejas, the produce manager, was almost in shock. He was a skinny little guy who had survived a grueling escape from Cuba in the early 60's and was left with chronic malnutrition and nervous ticks. He had run from back room to display areas all day restocking and hadn't had a minute to stop for lunch. He couldn't even keep the floors swept. There was a lull in traffic in that area so we convinced him to take a break while we restocked and straightened up for him. What a couple of swell guys we were! We got busy while he was gone and started cleaning things up. I started at one end while Rick worked from the other. While working along Rick yelled at me, "Hey Mihills, take a look at this rotten tomato I found. Want me to throw it at you...hahaha?" We laughed and went back to work then all of a sudden I got hit in the leg by said tomato. I grabbed a handful of grapes and peppered him soundly. He in turn grabbed a Granny Smith apple and launched it at my head. His aim was terrible though and flew way over my head, way over the top of the first set of shelves, and directly into the cash drawer as it opened on register one. The checker, who was a nervous sort herself, calmly made change, handed it to the customer, closed the cash drawer and walked off the job. She was a nice lady. I hated it but you have to admit, it was funny and worthy of mention in the overall history of Foodway. I did not know how applesauce was made until I sneaked over and opened that cash drawer to clean it up. Wow! That's all I can say....wow! No one ever reported the incident and we certainly didn't volunteer any information when the three managers discussed just what it was that had made sweet, nervous Clara walk off the job without a word. On a positive note, when Mr. Rejas got back to his department he found it stocked, cleaned, and unmanned by the two boys he had left in charge.
During this transition from sack boy to very important top guy, I struggled with the social aspect of my life. I had commandeered the old Hoopie as my own and was told if I was going to drive it I had to pay to insure it. That seemed fair until I actually started paying for it. Teenage boys are considered high risk drivers so the insurance premium is kin to highway robbery. It took a good chunk of my paycheck to cover it and the gas I used up....another cost I was allowed to cover. I was left with a few dollars in my pocket each week and rarely enough to entertain the ladies, of which I was still stuck on one. I also never had time to schedule my driving test so I went a whole semester before getting a break to go and fail my test twice. On my third attempt I aced the test...sort of. Anyway, I finally had a car, license, insurance, and on average, five dollars in my pocket. I was a rich man. I got up my nerve to ask out the girl of my dreams, Francine.......and she said, "I don't think so." I took it bad and slouched around in a dark depression for a long, long time. If I remember right it was at least a week before I snapped out of it and called another girl, Carrie Lou, up for a date. She had told me once before if I ever got a car I could ask her out. My call went like this, "Hi Carrie Lou, this is Russell....Mihills....Russell Mihills from school....oh good. You do remember me. Hey, I got a car!" "You got a car?" she replied. I said yes I had indeed taken ownership of a car. Her next words were, "Pick me up Friday at seven." I said okay and immediately started worrying about how I was going to pick her up at seven when I always worked til nine on Friday nights. I wasn't about to blow this though so I went to the manager, the nice one who was truly in charge, and explained my situation. He would let me off at six as long as I didn't make a habit of asking. He was a great guy. I really hated it when he got promoted and left our location. He was replaced by "Sarge" who is a whole different story in itself. I might come back to him someday. Life was definitely going my way.
One summer day around dusk, Rick and I were taking a break outside. While there, all of a sudden the front door of the store slammed open and a guy darted out running for all he was worth. The night manager was right behind them and when he saw us he yelled "Stop that guy!" Well before I go any further with this let me ask you, if your boss ran out chasing a customer yelling STOP THAT GUY, what would you assume? Well, we assumed the store had just been robbed. We took off after that guy as fast as our apron clad bodies would take us. We chased him all across the parking lot. He was headed east toward the park. He ran past CA's Restaurant as it was filling up with customers and weaved in and out of confused hungry people. We were right on his tail. He ran across the road and through the drive-through car wash. We never let up our chase. As he headed for the park we knew he would have to get back up to Pipeline Road to go over the bridge or risk falling while running along the creek bed. When we saw he had chosen the creek bed, Rick yelled that he would circle around and box him in at the bridge. I continued to chase the guy down the creek and under the bridge. Rick wasn't there to stop the guy. He got tied up waiting for a break in the traffic on Pipeline Road. I was losing steam and eventually gave up. Rick and I huffed and puffed our way back to Foodway expecting the police to be there. We were going to look like heroes. There were no police cars with flashing lights. There wasn't even a night manager frantically wringing his hands over worry about us. We made it back into the store and heard the night manager say, "What in the XXXX were you two doing?" We couldn't believe it. We were trying to save the store's money. He told us the guy wasn't stealing money! "Where did we get the idea he was robbing the store?" he asked while starting to laugh. Well, well, we thought....uh, we figured....we don't know. He told us, "I was at my desk and looked up in time to see this guy sneak a candy bar into his pocket. When he saw me, he bolted. I was just trying to stop him. Good grief guys, this is Hurst, not New York City!" You know, as I think back on it, I just bet that guy never gave another thought to stealing a candy bar. If he got to craving a Snickers, he probably paid for it or just walked away hungry.
Oh, the stories about my life at Foodway could go on and on but seriously, don't we all have something better to do? I'll stop without telling about the near death experience in the breakroom, or the summer day the girl in the yellow bikini strolled in to do her shopping. I won't go into any detail about the whole jalapeno right out of the can eating contest. Maybe someday. Thanks for allowing me to tell you some of what made me who I am. Some of these experiences may help to explain some of my Pom Pom Hat Shop stories....if I ever start telling them.
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