“I Would Have Fired Me” By Chris Zito

My first summer job was at the Farmer’s Market. The place was right across the street from where my dad sold cars. He saw that they were hiring and vouched for me. Guess he didn’t know me as well as thought he did.

My enthusiasm was matched only by my speed.

My duties were simple: sweep up, restock shelves, occasionally help unload a delivery. My pace was so slow that more the once the owner grabbed the broom from my hand to demonstrate how someone actually getting paid completes a task. I was barely sixteen, barely able to understand what he was driving at, and barely gave a shit.

Pretty sure this is how I looked to my boss on payday.

Once when he sent me into the walk-in cooler, I ended up sitting down and munching on strawberries. After a few minutes, he stuck his head in and shouted, “Let’s go!” I don’t think he really noticed what I was doing or there may have been a homicide.

You could steam the vegetables in the place with what came out of this guy’s head.

At the time it didn’t strike me what a bad employee I was. I thought the boss was a jerk. Lunch was my respite. There was a Dairy Queen next door and I would walk over for a foot long Brazzier Chili Dog. Of course this delectable fare didn’t exactly speed me up for the afternoon.

My cardiologist traces my problems all the way back to the 70’s!

All the sodium, triglycerides, and simple carbs would send me into a mid-afternoon coma. Luckily, it was only slightly slower than my morning pace so the boss barely noticed.

Thanks for reading. Tell your pals.
Chris Zito


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