....I am married to the most wonderful woman in the whole world. We've been married for over 52 years, which means we got married in grade school. Not really of course but we were young. Couples tended to do that back then. Now they put it off until they're out of school, out of college, out in the work force, out of touch with lots of eligible partners. Oh sure, waiting til you're out of college to marry is a good idea and I highly recommend it. I was a junior in college when Debbie and I married and I remained a junior for the next twenty-five years before graduating with a bachelor's degree, just after my oldest son's college graduation and just before my youngest son's. But this isn't a story about marriage or a poorly managed college education. I just wanted to get it out there in front that I AM HAPPILY MARRIED to the love of my life before I start talking about my first "girlfriend". Actually, the story is more about my first job but the girlfriend enters into the picture so to save any discomfort when my editor (Debbie) proofreads the story I just want to say one more time I am married to the woman of my life, my wife.....enough said.
The day I stopped being a wayward, carefree teenager was the day my mom came home from shopping at the Foodway grocery store down the street from our house. She came into my room where I was busy daydreaming and told me if I wanted to go to work I should put on a white shirt and get down to Foodway. I said, "Okay". She said, "Right now, I told the manager you're on your way." Well, thank you mama...I didn't know if I was pleased or put out with her but I didn't have time to think about it because my mom was holding my white shirt for me to change into and my older sister, Cindy was standing there waiting to drive me down there...with a silly looking grin on her face I might add.
Did I mention all this took place on a Friday night? No? Of course not. It wouldn't matter to anyone who never worked in a grocery store but to those of us who faced that Friday night and all day Saturday onslaught, thank you. I appreciate your sympathy. Back then there were laws on the Texas books called
"Blue Laws". I don't know why they were called that. I don't know why they were there....I don't even know why the phrase "Texas books" is appropriate but all that aside the laws stated that no store other than an emergency type store could be open on a Sunday. We all just naturally assumed it was listed somewhere in the Bible, maybe in Leviticus. Sunday was a state moderated day off for everyone except police officers, doctors, nurses, firemen, and of course preachers who only had to work on that one day.
Because all the stores were closed on Sundays everyone who worked, and back then it was everyone who wanted to eat and have a place to live, had to get all their shopping done on Friday night or Saturday. Christmas shopping was especially chaotic but everyone seemed to love it. People didn't seem to get so grumpy and argumentative until they were allowed to shop 24/7. No downtime for anyone. Oops, I didn't mean to go there. Back to the story.
As I was saying, my sister Cindy dropped me off at the front door of Foodway and drove off as fast as that Pontiac Bonneville would take her back home. I wondered about that later. Was I supposed to walk home? Anyway, I walked into a madhouse. The store was packed with shoppers trying to get their weekly groceries bought and paid for and the store was obviously shorthanded. My mom had told me to look for the guy in an apron, gold-rimmed glasses, and frayed look on his face. I was to boldly ask him for a job. I found the guy. He was sacking groceries for a customer as fast as he could. I did as my mom had instructed. My sales pitch went kind of like, "You don't want to hire anyone to work here, do you?" He didn't even have to take a breath before telling me to go to the office right behind him, grab an apron, and start sacking groceries on aisle five. I grabbed an apron but I didn't know how to put it on. I wandered over to aisle five and the cashier helped me with it and showed me how to put groceries into the bags without ruining most of them. She was a nice old lady. (Old...she was probably thirty.) I did okay that night and before I realized it the magic hour of nine came along and the store closed. 'Whew' I thought. I made it through that. I'm gonna go home and rest. I did not know I would also be mopping and waxing all the floors and helping restock the shelves before going home. Good grief, what had mama gotten me in to. Believe it or not, we were done and out of there by 9:30 and my dad was waiting for me in the parking lot. The bedraggled man who had put me to work was the night manager. He told me to come back in on Saturday morning at eight and the store manager would talk to me. He would either officially hire me or pay me for my time and send me home.
The next morning I was there before the store opened and met all the employees working that day. Everyone but the manager was smoking, drinking coffee, and laughing it up. The manager was sitting in his office with a serious look on his face. I nearly turned around and walked out but I did need to start working. I walked in and introduced myself. I was surprised at his friendliness and appreciation for my willingness to jump right in and help the night before. The job was mine if I wanted it with a few stipulations. I had to have a car, no bicycles or reliance on parents, I had to show up clean shaven, white shirt, starched and ironed jeans or slacks, tie, polished shoes....and the most important part, he had to see and approve my report card at the end of each six weeks. Anything worse than a "C" and I would be fired on the spot. Out of all those stipulations the only one that worried me was, "had to have a car...no reliance on parents". I kind of had a car. My dad had bought an old car for Cindy and me to learn to drive in but so far we hadn't done any "learning". I didn't have a license and I sure didn't have any insurance. I was definitely reliant on my parents....so I answered, "No problem, when do you want me to start?" He wanted me to start that day right after I completed the application.
Now that I'm engaged as an up and rising sack boy for Foodway Grocery Store, I'll explain why I felt I really needed to get a job when I had no expenses in life. It was girls....isn't that always the case. It all comes down to girls. In my case it was just one girl. Before I was old enough or had any right to "fall in love" I fell head over heels for a girl a year younger than me. I had nothing of interest to present to this girl. I had no money. I couldn't drive. I was too young and stupid to have any imagination....but I fell "in love" anyway. Even though this girl, who I'll call....Francine, yeah Francine...even though Francine was younger than me, she had her drivers license, she had friends and a social life, and she even had a partially developed personality. As I desperately tried to interest Francine in being interested in me, I floundered because I had no means of transportation other than riding her around on the handlebars of my bike, I didn't have any money to take her out on a date, and I didn't have enough imagination to even know how to plan a date. I was still a stupid little boy without a clue. As an example, on her birthday I found out she had mentioned she was crazy about a Ford Thunderbird she really liked down at Helm-Lary Ford in Hurst. Old romantic me hopped on my reliable Western Flyer and rode over to take a look at the Thunderbird. Then I went to the hobby shop and spent one of my first paychecks on a model of that same Thunderbird, along with the matching paint. On Francine's birthday, when everyone else was giving her cards, flowers, and perfume I gave her the Thunderbird. I was impressed. She was not. Neither was anyone else at that party.
Dumb old me was learning fast about life. Not too sure I wanted to learn it. I had it pretty good as a dummy but I had to grow up. I talked to my dad and told him about the requirement the store manager had for me to drive myself to work. He, of course didn't act like he had a bit of sympathy for my rushing into adulthood but he told me I could take the Hoopie (our '53 Studebaker) to work and back....no other driving around. No joy riding! I'll find out! You know I will! I was overjoyed. I had a car to drive to work. Now all I had to do was avoid getting a ticket for driving without a license, having insurance, and as I found out later, not having a title to the car....different story. I wasn't too worried. The store was less than four blocks straight down one residential street so I felt safe. I felt like a king the first day I pulled into the Foodway parking lot driving my own car. Did I mention Foodway was located on a very steep hill? Probably not. Well, Foodway was located on a very steep hill which would normally be a mundane detail* but in this story it's good to know that on that day as I proudly wheeled into the parking lot the brakes on the Hoopie failed. Absolutely no brakes and no way to stop. Thinking like the adult I had magically become, I looked for the oldest car in the parking lot and ran into it. That stopped it, mission accomplished. Very minor damage and the owner couldn't have cared less. In fact, I had to point out the damage to him. The Hoopie already had a dent in the front so all was well. When I got my first break that night I called my dad to report the brakes and true to form he reminded me it wasn't his fault I was in such an all-fired hurry to grow up and I could figure out for myself how to fix those brakes. Naturally though, by the time my break was over I looked out to see my dad out under that old car fixing those brakes.
The very first Saturday I had to work I drove off a little before eight and as I was pulling up to the intersection where the store was located I saw flashing lights come on behind me. I hadn't been speeding. I had been driving carefully....what had I done? How did he know I didn't have a drivers license?? I stopped just inside the store parking lot and waited for the strong arm of the law to ruin my life. I still remember the officer adjusting his belt and holster as he slowly walked up to the car, looking at it like it might be stolen. I rolled my window down and tried to not seem nervous...failing miserably. He looked down at me for a second, removed his sunglasses and said, "Son, any chance you might want to sell me this car?" I would have given it to him if it had really been mine but it belonged to my dad of course. I told him so and he wanted to make sure I told him if the car ever went up or sale. It's been nearly sixty years now and that old car still hasn't gone up for sale. However, that was my first hint that I might be driving a collectible and it made me a little more thoughtful of how I would stop it the next time the brakes failed.
I've got a lot more to say about my history at Foodway Grocery Store. It was a wonderful experience despite the pitfalls. I'll tell you about the pitfalls and more about good old Francine in the next installment.
*Editors note: This mundane detail is important in part two of the story as well.
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