Gainfully Employed

June 15, 1974….my first day of work in the real world.  I had only finished college the Friday before.  I had suggested to my mom that I would like to take a vacation for a couple of weeks before I went to work.

“Vacation?  You have got to be kidding!!  You have been on a vacation for twenty-two years!”   My idea had not flown with her.  My father on the other hand would have hopped in the car and said, Colorado, Washington, where to?

The the next Monday I walked into the old downtown JCPenney Store in Baytown, Texas, as their new Management Trainee.  I looked over the tired old balcony store.  It was similar to the one in Texas City where I had grown up.....just not as nice.  The floors were tan, the walls were tan, tan pretty much summed up the store’s color pallet .  I walked up the creaky stairs following the signs leading  to the office.

I was wearing a “can” dress, the newest thing.  It was a dress out of a soft jersey knit that could be stuffed into a can, an instant wardrobe change you could carry in your purse.  It had long sleeves, a jaunty black and white pattern, a defined waist and a short circular skirt. I wore black hose with my I.Magnum shoes, bought in Seattle at the Bon Marche.  Perhaps the dress was a little short for work but I would be buying for Women’s Fashions so I needed to show I knew what fashion was….even if it was JCPenney! 

Heading to the back, a man in coveralls smiled really big and said hello.  He waited like he thought I would shake hands with him…..but, I didn’t think I needed to extend such formalities to the janitor.    As I entered the tan shabby little office, all the walls were covered with shelves holding box after box of shoeboxes…..the store’s sales receipts and records from I assume the turn of the century.  Desks were lined up side by side  and all the ladies were working away until I appeared.  One of the ladies turned and asked, 

“May I help you?”  

       
"I am the new Management Trainee, I need to see Mr. Heinrich.” With that everyone looked dumbstruck.  The lady smoking dropped her cigarette in the dish and instantly the whole room  evacuated.  Then I heard the scrape of a little sliding window on a closed door beside me.  I turned,  the little window framed the face of an older lady.

“Are you Janis Faye Greenlee?”

      
“Yes, I am.”

       
“ I am Mrs. Washburn. Sit down at that desk in front of you, I have some papers for you to fill out.” She scraped the little window closed, unlocked the door and handed me a stack of papers to read and fill out.  “When you finish just stay right there and someone will be with you shortly, then she disappeared behind the door.

As I filled out the paperwork I began to feel a little sick.  I  graduated from college to work in a dumpy store like this?  It wasn’t anything like the large fashionable stores in Houston Dallas, the interviewer had sold me on.  I never dreamed I would be put in a little store like in my hometown.  Just as I felt my eyes welling up with tears, the door to the office opened once again.  I turned around and a very handsome 40ish man in a stylish, vested, dark suit with a burgundy tie stepped in.  He had thick dark hair, carefully groomed, and big blue eyes.

“So are you Janis Greenlee?” he asked.  I was still trying to figure out why he looked familiar.

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Sorry  for the coveralls, a few minutes ago, I was working on the air conditioner, I am the store manager,  Jim Heinrich.” He extended his hand.

I felt my face burning red, no wonder he expected me to shake his hand…He was my boss!

“Oh, oh, I am so sorry about that, I didn’t expect you to be dressed like…. Ugh I thought you were the Janitor…..oh I didn’t know who you were.”  He started laughing and I began to relax. At that very moment the evacuees from the office started filing into the office.

“Ladies ,” Mr. Heinrich said, “This is our new Management Trainee.  Janis these are our bookkeepers.  You will be working closely with all of them on your books.  Mrs. Perry, Mrs. Jackson, Mrs. Cost and well I see you have already met Mrs. Washburn”. She had slipped out of the little room behind me.  I said hello to each of them, still feeling like a bit of a leper. 

“Janis go on with Mr. Heinrich…..you can finish filling out the rest of the paperwork tomorrow”, with that, Mrs. Washburn slipped back into the mystery room.

As the day progressed I noticed that every one I was introduced to had a sudden look of shock on their face, until we got to the stockroom manager, Robert, a large black man with a kind face and his helper, Leo.  The look on their faces was that of pure disappointment.

The day was a series of introductions and explanations of more things than I could remember in a lifetime. It ended with only the explanation of my retirement plan left to be explained and signed, which I would do tomorrow.

As I walked to my car at the end of the day, I realized I didn’t even know where I lived. I heard a honk and saw my dad wave in his Silver Buick as he drove by.  I pulled out of the parking lot and followed him to Woodcreek Village. My parents, in their haste to have me gainfully employed immediately had rented an apartment for me and rented furniture.  They had unloaded all my boxes of clothing, and other things and had it waiting for me. 

Woodcreek Village was a new apartment complex, not yet finished.  Mom had picked out my carpet, a very fashionable long gold shag.  The furniture she had rented was a white Naugahyde couch and matching chair.   In the dining area was a little white table with vinyl upholstered chairs in a plastic floral print of yellow green and orange. A friend had given me a coffee table, it was square with crinkle crack white paint and a glass top.  Through the glass you see a geometric design, holding up the glass.  As a surprise, Mom had bought me a set for my coffee table, which consisted of a large ash try (I didn’t smoke) a candy dish and a matching umbrella stand to go by the front door, all in the color theme, of flowers in gold, yellow, orange and green.  The bedroom furniture was yellow bamboo, also very trendy.

Mom and Dad stood there, beaming at all they had done, hoping I would be equally excited to jump in and finish the unpacking.  All I could say was, “I am so tired, I think I am going to bed.”  I thanked them, gave them a hug and watched them walk down the stairs.  “I will call when I get a little more settled.”  I didn't have to be at work until 1PM the next day….I could sleep now and get things in order in the morning.

I slept for about 5 hours then got up.  I started to unpack and put things where I wanted them.   The apartment was a one bedroom.  The hallway off the living and dining room was like a dressing room, with a sink and dressing table built in.  To the right were two doors, the bath and a huge walk-in closet.  To the left was the bedroom, over looking the stairway and the pool.

By daylight I had the place like I wanted it.  There was very little to do in the kitchen because I had very little.  I had shared the kitchen with roommates before and we just each brought what we had. It had a dishwasher which I learned the hard way, took a special type of soap.

By 11AM I was ready to get to the store so I stopped, got lunch,  then headed to the store. Upstairs behind Credit and Lay-a-way, was the break room, where everyone ate and also checked in and out.  There were clipboards with each person’s time sheet to sign in.  As I signed in people were going in and out each saying hi and calling me Janis.  As I sat down to wait, a couple of men were eating their sack lunches, neither acknowledged me until I sat down on the ratty sofa, which emitted a huge, loud and embarrassing squeak.  At that,  they turned around and introduced themselves.  David McCormick was also a Management Trainee, although he was about to become a Merchandiser.  He was tall, handsome and extremely aloof. He was married and had 3 girls.  David bought for children’s, piece goods, home furnishings and the catalogue department.  The other man,  dressed in a plaid double knit (2 for $100) suit was Stephen Ammons.  A “Barney Fife” type, he was married with no children.  Stephen was the Senior Merchandise Manager who bought for the men’s department, work clothes, boys and shoes.  They asked me the usual questions and when silence set in I excused myself and headed around the corner to the office. 

With the aisle visually blocked by clothing, I bumped into a large black woman, her name tag said, “Dorothy White”.  I introduced myself.   She stood there just looking at me a second and said, 

“I thought you was supposed to be a black girl?”

 “I was?” I looked at her confused.

      
“Yeah, c’mon over here.”  At her register she produced a picture of a very attractive black girl about my age.   “ This is the picture Mr. Heinrich gave us of our new trainee.  Eitha you faded or you ain’t the same girl.”  A big grin came over her face and we both started laughing.. So that was it…..everyone thought I going to be  black.

As I got ready to take my dinner break around 4 PM, Mrs. Washburn put another stack of papers on my desk.

“Janis, the last thing I need you to sign is about your benefits and retirement.  As you can see your projected retirement is June 15, 2017….”

In the 1970s when applying for a job you filled it out by hand and stapled a professional picture of yourself to the application.  Evidently mine and another girl’s had come off and not knowing who was who, the secretary had guessed, getting the two of us mixed up.

Surreal

sur·re·al

[səˈrēəl]

ADJECTIVE

1. having the qualities of surrealism; bizarre: 

   "a surreal mix of fact and fantasy"

   synonyms: unreal · bizarre · unusual · weird · strange · freakish · 

   
   

   
   

   I felt surreal was vastly overused word.  Actresses have surreal experiences, politicians and anyone interviewed on the street have surreal experiences, "whatever  was surreal".  I never used the word....until that day.

   
   

   I headed to work with no breakfast and a headache as usual.  The museum where I work is on park land (leased to the museum for one dollar a year for 99 years or something like that). It is not in the best part of town which is why the museum has been able to build such a beautiful facility.  I go by Sonic each morning to get a Dr Pepper with double shots of vanilla and cream.

   
   

   I pulled into the Sonic.   A spot was open next to a very old burgundy Suburban, as I pulled into the spot, all the doors burst open, men dressed in black with hoods over their heads, jumped out. I could see guns in their hands, no it couldn't be , but yes I did.....guns.  They took off running to the other side of the Sonic, jumping the little table in the middle and started screaming, "Out of the car! Out of the car! Out of the car!"  I was still trying to determine if there were guns in their hands....sitting in the middle of the drive.  The four thugs in black grabbed the two guys in the car, threw them on the ground and handcuffed them.  Then they picked them up and threw them in the back of the car.  A black truck had come up behind their car and suddenly it lit-up like a Christmas tree. The black truck took off, one of the hooded men jumped into he driver's seat and took off after the black truck.  As two of the men ran back to the burgundy suburban I noticed that there were only openings for their eyes in the hoods.  They jumped in to the old SUV and took off after the car and the black truck.  I just sat there shaking. What just happened? I could feel the adrenaline surging through me.  What did just happen?  Guns. Lights. Flashing. Handcuffs. Police.  The thugs were the police. 

   
   

   

   I got to the museum, still in disbelief, still shaking.  Nothing out of order here...nothing had happened.  I felt like I had experienced a bad dream.  Here though, everything was normal.   I turned on all the exhibits, and started my now ordinary day.

   
   Sitting at my desk working I felt a presence and looked up.   He stood there looking at me in sort of a dumb manner.  He was portly and had curly hair, cut in a mullet.  The old sweater he was wearing had white on the shoulder like he had leaned up against a freshly painted white wall.  The sweater, a bit too long was stretched tightly around his large belly.  His face was smooth like a woman's.
   "Would you like to tour the museum?" , I asked
   "Uggggggh, no,"  he said in a very soft, deep voice that was almost a whisper. "I'm Pauuuuuuuuuuuul."

   "Okay, what can I do for you?" He stares at me looking rather  hopeless.  

   "Weeeeell I am from Someplace secuuuuurity and I have come to check your secuuuuurity  system."          I quickly showed him where all the security computers were, thinking he would busy himself with his task. But instead he proceeded to come back to my desk with me and sit down in the chair to the side with the security monitor.

   
   

   I know nothing about the security system computers.  I told him that, but he continued to ask me more and more questions.  Then he started talking about using a wireless mouse.  I showed him my mouse was wireless, but he kept saying we needed more of them.  I finally told him he would have to come back when our director was in.  I told him she had a very busy schedule and he should call to make sure she would be here.  With his wireless mouse he played with the security monitor by my desk, continuing to tell me the wonders of his wireless mouse.  Finally realizing I was going to be of no help whatsoever, he said he would caaaaalll Lacee before he came next time.  I gave him her card and he was gone.

   
   

   With "Pauuuuul" gone. I continued working on the lesson plans for upcoming school tours.  The phone continued to ring, everyone wanted to talk to the director.  When Lacee arrived back at the museum, the phone stopped ringing.  She has a totally open door policy.  Anyone coming by to talk to her can walk right into her office...or almost anyone.

   
   

   Finally quiet, I was getting my activities planned, when a weird rancid smell started to permeate the room...I heard a man's voice say, "I am here to see Lacee."  I pointed to her office, but before he could step that way Lacee was in front of him leading him away.  As the two of them walked away I got a really good look at him.  He was wearing a Carthart cold weather jumpsuit, it was soiled with....something or somethings that smelled worse than the car with a dead body in it, Jim and I had parked next to one time.  As I looked across the museum, Lacee was leading him to the catering kitchen, he following her holding the legs of his smelly jumpsuit up and kind of waddling. I jumped up and searched for some air freshener...all I could find was some Pledge furniture polish, so I sprayed it.

   
   

   When Lacee came back, I said, "Who was that?!!"

   "He is here to clean the grease trap.  He will bring you the bill, sign it and breathe shallow."

   SURREAL

   
   

   
   

   
   

   
   

   
   

Old Friends and Strange Bed Fellows

Recently I visited with a friend, Mel, who had lived across the hall from me in Stangel Hall at Texas Tech University 41 years ago.  I was working at the museum when she walked in.  I was transported back to those long ago innocent days in a moment.  It was like no time had passed.

Jan and Mel

Mel was the life of our hallway.  She was always laughing and playing pranks on all of us.  And right when you thought you had her figured out she came up with something else.  She was tall with long blonde hair, and enough confidence for three people. Never intimidated..…ever.  I envied her confidence.

We lived in all girl's dorm and by that I mean, men were not allowed on the hall at anytime.  Mel would walk down the hall with her hair in curlers, in baby doll PJs, her cigarette in a cigarette holder calling us for us to go to the Pancake House at 4 a.m. or something else equally outrageous.

 When the top on her Mustang convertible would not come up she told us to just use umbrellas and hold them down low so the wind wouldn’t blow them…didn’t work…but we all ended up laughing until we cried.

Mel and Stephanie never closed and locked their dorm 
room, consequently when a stray dog wandered on to the 2nd floor it went in their room. He obviously had some kind of intestinal distress because when they came back from class he had pooped all over their room, beds, desks and all.  Everyone on the hall heard the shrieks when they returned.   

We had to wait in line in the dorm cafeteria for every meal.  Mel had nicknames for all the people we saw everyday in line.  There was a very hunky guy who always wore plaid flannel shirts and when she saw him in the line she would burst into the Campbell soup commercial song, "How do you handle a hungry man," who also wore plaid flannel shirts.  The funniest was the couple who were always making out in the line, Mel could never resist and would say under her breath, "Kissssssssy kissy kissy kissy, huggggggy huggy huggy huggy,"  which made everyone around us either giggle or roll their eyes.

 There were about 4 or five of us who loved to ski.  We would pool our funds and figure out how to make a trip to Ruidoso on whatever amount of money we had. On this particular weekend Melanie had a sorority sister who parents had a cabin at Ruidoso.  She and her family were going up and she offered Mel and our hall mates the use of their attic, which was a bunk room.  It was strictly a place to sleep with a bathroom…we would have to eat out, which worked perfectly.

It snowed a lot that week and Mel was not sure she could drive the treacherous 12 miles up the mountain on ice.  Two guys she knew were going to hitchhike to Ruidoso.   They said to meet us at the service station where we had chains put on.   They would drive the car up.   However…there were two of them and 5 of us.  Her new Cutlass was a 5 passenger car. Normally it was about an hour drive but with ice it could easily be two hours.

We met the guys and reshuffled our seating to accommodate them.  Phil sat in the back with Molly, Stephanie and the other Melanie. Mel sat in the front with me in her lap and Mike drove. The wind was howling, and the road was slippery.   There was the occasional hold-up due to other cars not being able to make it around the steep switchbacks and having to be pushed.  We had the heat and defroster on high to keep the ice from building up on the windows. With the seating arrangements, we were uncomfortable at best.  About an hour into the trip, the most overwhelming fumes started to penetrate every inch of the inside of the car.  Stephanie screeches,   “Molllllly!!!! What are you doing???”  She had taken out her fingernail polish and begun painting her nails. Immediately, all the windows went down. Phil reached over, grabbed the nail polish, and hurled it out the window.  Now instead of being it cozy and warm we had a blizzard blowing through the car.   

After another hour we made it to the ski area. The day of skiing was great, it snowed most of the day providing the rare treat of powder in New Mexico.  We all met at the car when the lifts closed minus Molly, who had found her boyfriend and decided to ride back with him.

                                                           Melanie and Jan

When we got into town, we had dinner and headed to the lower canyon to find the cabin where we were going to stay.  Mike and Phil had met up with their friends in town and took off on their own.  Mel had told them about the attic bunk room and how to get there.  

The house was amazing.  It was all cedar inside with a huge kitchen and living area.  The hosts were all visiting, when we arrived, we said hi and all headed upstairs to go to bed.  The room was huge with bunks on every wall,  enough to sleep 15 people.  In the middle of the room were two double beds.  On the outside wall was a double bed, which had a twin bunk on top.  The extra part of the double bed extended into the eave of the roof with only a clearance of about two and half feet and got smaller the closer you went to the wall, the twin bed on top also touched the sloped ceiling wall. The other walls had twin bunks.

We were exhausted from leaving Lubbock at 4 am and skiing all day.  I grabbed one of the doubles, Mel got the other one, Stephanie and Melanie took the twin bunk by the stairs.  Molly was still out with her boyfriend and would be in later as would Mike and Phil. It wasn’t long until Molly showed up making noise, turning on lights, laying her sleeping bag out, picking out what she was wearing tomorrow, to which everyone told her to shut up, turn out the light  and go to bed.  She slipped into the double bed in the eave of the house and zipped the sleeping bag up as loudly as she could.   Several hours later Mike and Phil showed and asked the snoring room, “Where can we sleep?”  Sleepily Mel said, “Any bed that is empty.”

Early the next morning the hostess rang her bell and called to us that breakfast was ready if we wanted to come down.  Still drowsy from the long day before, we all just sort of laid there trying to wake up when we heard Molly’s voice.  “Who are You?!”  Then we heard Phil’s voice,

“I believe we met yesterday. Who are you? and what are you doing in my bed?”.

“Your bed? Well obviously I was here first since I am on the inside.”

“How do you expect me to have seen you in the total darkness…and you rolled up in that sleeping bag?   I thought that was a pillow.  You didn’t tell me to leave when I got in!”

Molly unzipped her sleeping bag, whacked her head on the sloped ceiling as she got on her knees, then started to stomp out of the bed stepping on top of Phil, dragging the sleeping bag across Phil's head, with him flailing his arms trying not to get trapped by it.  Then she headed down the stairs stomping like an elephant.  The rest of us, now wide, awake, were rolling around, laughing hysterically. 

Jan

We didn't see Molly skiing that day. We heard she rode home with her boyfriend.  I still laugh every time I think of that ski

trip......

New Skis