On
by Lee–Age 44–Bellingham, WA
My first job was as a Union cashier at a grocery store. At Dairy Queen I wore a white
polyester uniform, sliced onions and looped tips on soft-serve cones. One summer I created a filing system for an oil company and dreamed of nothing but color-coded labels. I’ve cooked pizza and can still spin dough over my head like I was twenty-two. I’ve busted shoplifters: perky adolescents, men just released from prison, drag queens bearing armfuls of clothing. I know that if a business has a janitor or secretary they’re the most interesting to drink coffee with, or something stronger.
Once I worked with a disabled kindergarten student. I fed her, wiped her, picked her up from home in the morning and returned her after school. I would hold her in my lap as we arced back and forth on the swings. I knew she liked it because she would hum from so deep inside she would vibrate against my chest.
I’ve been bonded, fingerprinted, entrusted with door keys, alarm codes, and safe combinations. I never took a drug-test; they weren’t common when I would have failed, and now that I could pass I won’t take one. I’ve endured interviews where I was asked to unbutton my shirt and others where I’ve been asked, “What does customer service mean to you?” If I made it to an interview I got the job. My father was right: show up early and clean and you’ve surpassed half the other applicants.
This isn’t a reassuring thought.
I’ve edited, taught, painted houses, folded t-shirts, and ordered pet food, souvenir mugs, pencils, and magnets. I have sold clothing, jewelry, cards, and watches. Mopped floors, folded boxes, cleaned fingerprints from glass. I’ve held jobs involving correspondence, newsletters, spreadsheets, databases, and government forms. In my younger days I held multiple jobs. Retail by day, clubs by night. I managed a gay dance party on Polk Street, riding my motorcycle through the projects to deliver cash to my boss. I have called nurseries to order five hundred trees.
I’ve worked with junkies, transsexuals, thieves, Republicans, Communists, Rajneesh, and adulterers. Soldiers, students, single moms. Muslims, Jews, Christians, and Buddhists. Atheists and Agnostics. Pagans. I’ve worked with schizophrenics, displaced homemakers, and Vietnam vets. I have learned that I always have something in common with everyone I meet, even if I don’t like to think so.
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