Two gems that sparkle brightest: "cigarette friendship" and "it's still good to get naked and rub old skin to old skin. I don't know it that's your empathy or observation at work, probably both.
I had a fast food job for awhile, closing the day washing dishes at Burger King after a full day of lifeguarding at a dammed-up river which followed a 20-mile bike ride to 2 hour swim practice and 20 mile bike commute back. I loved the job because it gave me access to lots of discarded sandwiches which I ate voraciously on the sly, knowing what others might say and think. I hated the job because of the absurd uniform which I soon refused to wear, arguing nobody could see me in the back (where I yearned for a burger-snarfing friendship akin to the "cigarette friendship" in your story. One night, I rode my bike home at midnight under the gaze of a full moon and was inspired to write a poem that helped eliminate distance and pulled my girlfriend closer. She wasn't generally into poetry, but this one got to her and made her mine.
Reminds me of when my sister worked at a fast food chain when she was a teenager. When we went to visit, we were surprised to see she was the only youth in a group of seniors. Sure didn't expect it as I also thought fast-food jobs were for teens. Worst experience she said, after working a month, can't imagine what the elders thought after working for years.
6/10 jobs I believe are either retail or food in the USA right now. That’s the base reality in this country. Not the worst, not the best, but hard to romanticize. But if you try, sometimes you find a new Grandfather I guess.
I remember when I, a White woman, went to Japan in ‘95 to teach English, and going to a fast food restaurant with others in my training group. Mike, a younger Jewish guy would say things out loud: “I’ve never seen Asians working at McDonald’s before!”
Two gems that sparkle brightest: "cigarette friendship" and "it's still good to get naked and rub old skin to old skin. I don't know it that's your empathy or observation at work, probably both.
I had a fast food job for awhile, closing the day washing dishes at Burger King after a full day of lifeguarding at a dammed-up river which followed a 20-mile bike ride to 2 hour swim practice and 20 mile bike commute back. I loved the job because it gave me access to lots of discarded sandwiches which I ate voraciously on the sly, knowing what others might say and think. I hated the job because of the absurd uniform which I soon refused to wear, arguing nobody could see me in the back (where I yearned for a burger-snarfing friendship akin to the "cigarette friendship" in your story. One night, I rode my bike home at midnight under the gaze of a full moon and was inspired to write a poem that helped eliminate distance and pulled my girlfriend closer. She wasn't generally into poetry, but this one got to her and made her mine.
What I have always liked about your writing is the way a few details can create such a vivid image for me.
Looks like Trump was in the area.
I definitely would have wanted to be that kid’s friend when I was that age. What a lot of good people to visit in just a short story
Subscribed today. This was a beautiful inspiring story.
This was so beautiful. I loved this story and the lesson behind it 💙
Reminds me of when my sister worked at a fast food chain when she was a teenager. When we went to visit, we were surprised to see she was the only youth in a group of seniors. Sure didn't expect it as I also thought fast-food jobs were for teens. Worst experience she said, after working a month, can't imagine what the elders thought after working for years.
6/10 jobs I believe are either retail or food in the USA right now. That’s the base reality in this country. Not the worst, not the best, but hard to romanticize. But if you try, sometimes you find a new Grandfather I guess.
Good one.
Yes, respect your elders. Put a capital 'G' on it.
Yes. Short and powerful.
I remember when I, a White woman, went to Japan in ‘95 to teach English, and going to a fast food restaurant with others in my training group. Mike, a younger Jewish guy would say things out loud: “I’ve never seen Asians working at McDonald’s before!”
My goodness, beautiful. Achingly sad, full of anger yet still somehow beautiful
This is gorgeous
What a great and moving story!
Sad but unfortunately true...respect is the only thing most of us can afford.
Your relationship with Grandfather....caused me to shed a tear or two.
I cried at the end. Thank you.