musings of an underacheiver….dishwasher

I was 27 when I got my first dishwashing job. I had moved back i with my mom, after my older brother died, and he left behind enough insurance that Mom could have a lot, and still send me to broadcasting job. Right down the road was a locally famous bar/restaurant. The Wagon Wheel. I’m not revealing much saying the name of the place: nearly every damn tow in Michigan has a Wagon Wheel.

I was a little tentative about going for the dishwashing job advertised in the paper that warm late summer day in 1984. I had never washed dishes in a restaurant before, but what the hell, I’d done enough other shitty jobs: this one was close by and would do whie I went to school, learning how to set the world on fire with my reat radio voice (tried to get one. No luck). Hell, I could wash dishes for eight months. That’s how long the radio/tv course was.

The last time I had worked in a restaurant at all was the yearI got out of high school. I put in two years at Burger King, and I wonder why I had stayed there that long, though I was restles for “something else.” I put in my first try at broadcasting school then, in 1977-78. Paid for with the insurance money my mom collected whenmy grandfather died. I certainly get the breaks when somebody else dies, don’t I?
No, I stayed at Burgr King for two year because it fet like home to me. The manager, Chuck, was a clown who laughed at everything, my kind of guy. I got close with the other subjects of the Burger Kingdom. Bought booze for the 17-year-olds, though I never drank. Not then: I made up for lost time later.
The closeness I fet there was the same kind of camaradiere I would feel later when I washed dishes.

I know I wasn’t too specific about thedetails, but I’ll write more later and get into specifics. I just wanted to present an overview of smeone you’ll be hearing from.