This summer has been a very busy one which accounts for my absence here lately. The main focus of my summer has been to find a new job. The one at U-Haul slowly and painfully faded into nothingness until finally one day I went to work and discovered that there were complaints about the amount of work I was doing. That night I wrote my resignation and the next day I turned it in. It was an incredibly freeing moment even though I no longer had any source of income whatsoever. From that time on all my efforts have been directed at finding a job that will allow me to pay my bills. These efforts are the fibers of the fabric that compose my summer.
One of the most memorable jobs I applied for this summer was driver for Frosty Treats ice cream. I wasn't thrilled about the actual job but at that point it would have been money and I needed some. The application itself was quite simple, one of the most simple that I have filled out since high school. About a week later, FT called me in for an interview. That went well and we agreed that I would come in for orientation the next day at 10am.
When I arrived the next day, Mercel, the orientation director, was not ready for me; so I waited in the drivers lounge where I made a little friend. His name was Tory and he was three years old. He was full of life and curiosity and told me about the things that are of interest to little boys his age. He talked about his mother who drove an ice cream truck and about his memaw who cared for him in the afternoons. He told me about the spider that his mother killed and reenacted the story in dramatic detail, showing me the palm of his hand to indicate how big that spider was. He told me about his big brother who got to play baseball but that he wasn't big enough yet. I could tell he was proud of his brother. Then he showed me his bo bo. We talked about that for a while and then he asked me about my bo bo. I had injured my finger and I was wearing a finger splint. I explained that I had hurt it but the doctor fixed it and it was better now. He was satisfied with that but now I was the focus of his attention. He looked at my hands and wanted to know all about the various scars. He pointed to each one and asked where I got it. My answers were mundane. That was a cut, or a burn. My cat scratched me there. Then he looked at my arms and asked me about the mosquito bites. He shared with me that a mosquito had bit his memaw and she had squashed it dead. Had I squashed the one that bit me? Then he looked up into my face and asked me with great concern, "What happened to you face?"
Umm. I didn't know what to say to that. As far as know, there is nothing distinctive about my face. Thankfully, at this point Mercel made an appearance and I was able to begin orientation.