I moved to Washington when I was fifteen. Therefore, the first real jobs I held were in this great and very green state. In the past couple days of vacationing I ran across all the old buildings where I held employment. Today, I have nothing more interesting to show the world wide web than pictures of those buildings.
This is the grocery store formerly known as Bell”s Supermarket. The same store that my parents bought when I was in high school. I spent many hours there, picking up loose change on the floor so that I could buy a fifty cent can of Mountain Dew for my break.
This is the Peerless Restaurant and Lounge. I was nineteen when I started working here and only legally allowed to tend to the restaurant half. This is the place I developed a love for biscuits and gravy. Also, this would be the place where I realized that small town bars are full of insanity.
After the Peerless, I wound up working at this place, where I was an advertising sales-woman. I was driving when I snapped this photo, and did not get a full shot of the sign. I got paid on commission, but was told I would be paid only after the newspaper was launched. It was not off the ground in the three months that I was an employee. In total, I took home fifty dollars at this job…in three months. There is good reason that I am not mentioning the true name.
At Gold Digger Apple sheds I took apples off a conveyor belt and put them into boxes. The shifts I worked lasted twelve hours. There were people working there when I did that were my parents age and had been doing that same work since they had graduated high school. It is monotonous and painful work. painful because the same motion being made with your hands and arms for that long of a time causes catastrophic inflammation. I would watch as the workers would eat ibuprofen like candy to last through the day. Super nice people work there, but I could not handle it very long.
Fat Boy’s Diner was and is one of my favorite jobs. It’s a restaurant/bar that is frequented by good-old-boys who want breakfast for pennies and coffee for free. Those old farmers quickly nicknamed me Red. (don’t even try it) If money were nothing I would work here forever.
Some day I better be able to look back at Hell’s Kitchen with the fondness that I have for some of these places.