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mikes.
Total: 1 forum post
Posted:
Jul 25th 2010 at 07:11:05 PM (EST)
Changed:
Jul 28th 2010 at 07:03:50 AM (EST)
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NOT SO MUCH BILL PORTER NOR BILLY MAYES by Mikes
**New to the site, didn't quite know how to make the book cover like the rest of the contestants, but I hope you all like it**
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Not So Much a Bill Porter nor Billy Mayes
by Mikes
“ Oh hell yeah!” As you can tell, by those 3 words, the excitement I felt inside was beyond anything else.
“ So you’re down?” Jack asked, holding out a fist.
“ Hell Yeah!” pounding his fist with mine.
Here I am, 13 years old. 7th grade, about to end within days, and a job lined up for the summer. No more asking for money, canceling my casual encounters, because of no cash flow. Buying some new clothes, rocking the latest kicks and, even, foreshadowing a dinner with my pops saying, “fuck it… It’s on me, dad.”
The limited access now limit-less and I can already see my summer in a gold mine. Rose Parade, movies and Disney Land. At the time, I really couldn’t explain the excitement to Jack that I’ve felt inside neither to my siblings, friends at school, even dad. My first official job! After the discussion, I walked away a new man!
The thought of even having an official job grew on me, so much, that I walked down the school hallway with swagger. The confidence catching the attention of every girl and I loved it, “ We’re hanging out in the summer right? Okay cool, we can date, I’ll buy!”
RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING. Probably, the first time where the school bell wasn’t so annoying. Rather a sigh of relief to escape the politics of middle school and I can just do what I ever I want. I meet up with Jack in the middle of the school.
“ Here we go, man, our first day at our first job!” He hits me on the back. Either to wake me up so I know that it is real or maybe it to wake himself up because he was just astonished and excited as I was.
We walk out the school to meet up with the supervisor. Hoping for some sort of expensive SUV of some sort. Reality cursed the both of us, as a beat down van pulls up to the front of the school. An oversized, middle aged man from India, walks out. He wore sunglasses, white polo shirt and khaki pants. Walking towards the passenger side of the van.
The look on his face was intimidating, like a security guard of some A-list celebrity, a musician or even the president, “ Get in the car.”
“ Yeah, I feel safe.” I said sarcasticly looking towards Jack.
Jack had a blank look on his face. The intimdation of this indian man, got to Jack to the point where he can no longer fear him, but just stare mesmerizingly.
I gently pushed Jack towards the van, “ Ladies first.”
We get in the van. 5 other teenagers, our age, also sat in the van. All of them, with the same look on our faces. The sliding door slams and we all turn our heads towards the indian man, as he walked around the van, surveying his surroundings, towards the driver side. I felt the awkard silence, tingle my fingers. The tingle then began to spread all around my body and then turned to chills.
Uncomfortable with the awkard silence, I decided to break it, “ Okay, indian man. Either all of us are nervous because you’re scary looking and this is our first day, “ The word ‘indian man,’ quickly caught his attention and his eyes grew big, “ Or you have a secret pervsion towards little teenage kids and you’re kidnapping us.”
Jack hits me on the arm. The look on his face said it all, “ Thanks a lot, he’s gonna kill us instead of rape us and I don’t want to die. Let alone I don’t want to get raped.”
“ My friend Jack here, doesn’t want to get raped.” I added on, Jack’s face turned red.
“ Calm down dilinquent, “ The indian man says with a smile on his face and a very soft spoken voice, “ My name is Frank. I am your supervisor and I like to welcome you to, Positive Teens Alternative. This job is to help you get off drugs, gangs and violence.” He starts the ignition.
“ So whats the pay?” Asks one of the teenagers (Lucy, a russian lady).
“ The pay is $1.50 an item.” Frank replies, “ But today is an exception, because it’s you’re first day. If you manage to sell 10 items, your pay doubles to $3.00. Sell more than 10 items, it’ll be $3.00 instead of $1.50.”
“ Selling?” asked another teenager (Dustin).
“ You dilinquents are door to door salesman.” Frank hands me a stack of cards and a pieces of paper to hand to the other kids, “ The card is to make you look official, like you’re certified. The piece of paper is the pitch to memorize, before you get to the spot. If there’s anything you will learn on this job is to think on your feet. You are your own business owner .”
The driving directions itself resulted to places of Portland that seemed foreign to me. What went from to apartment buildings, liquor stores and mini-marts now turned into neighborhoods of houses owned by middle class, married, with children, couples.
Frank points at the 2 teenagers in the back (DeAndre and Johnny),” You 2 will get off here.”
DeAndre and Johnny were the vets out of the 5 of us. Fooled me, as I thought they were new just as I was. Frank got out of the van and met up DeAndre and Johnny, at the back of the van. 5 duffle bag, filled the back area. Franks hands them the 2 of the 5 and walks back towards the driver side.
“ What are those drugs?” I asked, whispering to Jack, the comment made Lucy giggled, “ What the hell did you get us into?”
“ I don’t know, my mom got me this job. “ Jack was just as frustrated as I am.
I looked away shaking my head. The excitement now turned bitter and the dreams of having the things I wanted turned to shit.
“ Hey, look on the bright side, at least he’s not going to rape us, “ Just the thought of Jack saying made my frustration grow, although he meant well.
“ Okay so new guys, “ Frank said to Jack and myself, “ You guys will be paired going door to door. When you guys get comfortable, separate and cover each side of each block.”
Frank then drives a mile down from where DeAndre and Johnny were dropped off. Another location of Portland that was foreign to me. Stranded to sell, lost to escape my first day on the job and too big of puss to decline the job and ask for a ride home. I had no other choice, but to just go with it.
“ Okay, here’s your guys’s stop.” Frank tells us.
We step out of the van and meet Frank towards the back. Looking around and feeliing out of place, the lost of motivation became so heavy just like the duffle bag that hit my face. The excitement dropped to floor along with the duffle bag.
“ Be-fuckin-careful, dilinquent!” Frank exclaimed, picking the duffle bag back up and brushing the dirt off. The angry voice quickly turned soft, trying to poeticly justify his sanity “ This is expensive stuff.”
He then turned back towards the driver side, gets in the van and drove off.
I looked towards Jack with disappointment like a parent would with their child, when they do something wrong, “ We are door to door salesmen, we’re in the middle of no where! You’re going first.”
We approached this house, that had white paint peeling off. Grass never cut, weeds on the driveway. As if reality couldn’t make our day any worse. It not only cursed us, but rubbed it in.
Jack knocked on the door. Spacing out, trying to remember the pitch. No answer. He looked towards me, confused. Then knocked again and then added more nuisance to the home owner by ringing the door bell.
A thump was then heard. Repeatidly as if he was coming down the stairs. The thump then grew louder and louder. The chills came back to me and grew stronger to the point of nervousness.
The door opens angrily, “ WHAT?” and before Jack could even start his pitch. The man, old age wearing boxer-briefs and a tank top stares at us. Noticing our duffle bags, he yells out, “ NOT INTERESTED!” and slams the door in our faces.
Our 1st rejection sure hurted our feelings. Don’t let our foul mouths fool you, mind you we were young teenagers going through puberty, which would explain the feelings being hurt.
“ Well that went well, “ Trying to cheer Jack up, “ That man must’ve never been laid in his life, he only reacted the way he did, because he was lonely and they only way he knows how to live is alone.”
Unexpectedly the door opens up again. The expression of the Old man looked of Clint Eastwood, “ What did you just say?”
Shocked that he heard me. I remember Frank telling us to think on our feet, “ I said, trying to cheer my friend up, don’t mind what he said he doesn’t want to be our homie.”
Confused on the saying, that ended up saving our lives, the old man replies, “ I thought you said I’ve never been laid,” with relief, he shakes his head and steps out of the house, the Clint Eastwood expression now innocent with a smile.
“ Laid?” I asked trying to look confused as if I never heard the word nor knew what it meant.
“ Nevermind, you’re too young. What can I do for you gentilmen?”
Stealing the spotlight, I wanted to be the first, between Jack and myself, to get a potential sell, “ My name is Mikes, and this is my partner Jack. We work for Possitve Teens Alternative, an organization that encourages teenagers, like us, to stay off drugs, gangs and violence.”
This 1st part of the pitch actually worked as the old man’s interest grew by sitting on an old rocking chair that was on the left side of the front door.
I handed him the mentioned card and continued, “ Our organization encourages the youth of america to try out different aspects of possible career paths, by placing us on ideal jobs that the average grown up would. Their belief is that if we work, we will become occupied by spending time more productively instead of doing crime. Ofcourse, especially now, being summer!”
“ Interesting, “ said the old man.
I found the expression on the old man to be stereotypical. The expression that says, how can a minority, like this kid, be able to anounciate every word? I was able to brush off his expression and worked my way towards the duffle bag to present the merchandise that I was selling.
“ How much?” the old man asked.
“ Well they are regularly priced at $7 a piece, “ I lied, “ But today’s special is, buy 10 for $66, get another merchandise of your choice for free.”
“ I’ll take it. “
The old man picked out the 11 merchandises he wanted. Paid the $66 in cash. I politely thanked him for his time and Jack, and I, continued on.
“ I thought they were $6?” Jack asked confused.
“ Just thinking on my feet, my friend. I just made $33.” I smiled with confidence.
4:00-8:45pm, ended up being our shifts. The Job? Lasted about 2 months. 1,000+ hours of our lives being wasted at 13. 61 days of summer gone. The days of being cursed at by highschool students left at home, while the parents were gone. Being chased by huge dogs. There was an incident, where I had no where to use the bathroom and I was too scared to pee in the bushes, so I ended up pissing myself. A heaps load of houses had a “No Soliciting,” sign. I remember getting written up for tearing them off. I had quite a few of people getting more that 12 merchandises at a time, saying they wanted to buy it, but due to the over pricing they quickly decline, it went from $6 to $10.
The job began to grow boring and the only thing I’ve gotten out of this job was to think on my feet. This wasn’t no possitive alternative, Frank ended up being a selfish prick. A, total, kiss-ass when we do good and sell, but an animal when we don’t. I learned how to be fraudlent, if I had a no-sell. I asked to make a donation (which would go into my pocket). I had a confrontation with Frank, both of us exchanged words , but my words didn’t please Frank, so well. Reading between the lines, Frank got the analogy that I quit.
I made a grand total of $200. I had better chances flipping burgers, making minimum wage. Back then, you can start work at Burger King at the minimum age of 14. So I decided to quit the job, waiting until November to turn 14. Thinking that I had the last laugh. Reality would soon end it with a middle finger, the minimum age to work at Burger King now turned to 15…
"Not So Much Bill Porter nor Billy Mayes": 
by Mikes
Date: July 26th 2010
Language: English
Pages: 5
Blurb:
A true story, based on my first job.
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moondarlin
Scribbler
Total: 2 forum posts
Posted:
Jul 27th 2010 at 01:12:23 PM (EST)
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My Worst Summer Job, Perhaps
My worst summer job was back on the farm when I was 13 years old. We really wanted to make money to go to Florida so we decided to have a fruit and vegetable stand. The night before our big even,we prepared our signs and our stands. Counted out change for the register (just a cigar box). Made refreshments to sell with the produce. Alls we had to do was pick the fruits and vegetables early in the morning so they would be fresh.
All night long we couldn't sleep because we were excited to be having our own 'business' and making money. I don't know what time we actually fell asleep but it seemed that the morning came quick. The alarm rang at 4am. Early to rise to pick all those fruits and vegetables and setup.
After we got dressed and had our breakfast of oatmeal and milk, we got on our boots so we could go into the mud to pick vegetables in the garden.
Since it was still dark out, we had to use a flashlight to find out way to the garden. As we approached the garden, we saw like 30 pairs of eyes (it seemed like more when you are younger), staring at us. To our horror, the deer and the raccoons were eating all our vegetables.
We screamed and cried at the animals which made them run like crazy. I thought our 'business' was down the tubes before we even got started.
My aunt had called a neighbor or two and explained our dillemna unbeknownst to us, and about an hour before we were to start our 'business', all the neighbors showed up with their fruits and vegetables.
I was so excited but told them we wouldn't make near enough to pay everyone back but we could work for each one all summer long to make up for it. Everyone to our surprise said free of charge, just try to sell what you can and have fun doing it.
So, I guess my worse summer job turned into the greatest summer job of all time!!!
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