First Day On The Job

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Wow! You're giving away your age, Tom. I don't imagine there are many under the age of 60 in this NG who know what "shinola" is :-)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shinola
Joe aka 10x
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10x wrote:

Geez, you just prompted me to edit a wiki article--there was mention of Shinola on an episode of Night Court that I saw a couple of days ago, and I couldn't resist adding that to the list of references in pop culture.
--
--
--John
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Well, I didn't either but then, in the UK, you'd most likely have used "Cherry Blossom"
--
Stuart Winsor

For Barn dances and folk evenings in the Coventry and Warwickshire area
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RE: Subject
AKA: Age By Wal-Mart
Lew

You are in the middle of some kind of project around the house: mowing the lawn, putting a new fence in, painting the living room, or whatever.
You are hot, sweaty, and covered in dirt or paint.
You have your old work clothes on.
You know: "the outfit" - shorts with the hole in crotch, old T-shirt with a stain from who knows what, and an old pair of tennis shoes.
Right in the middle of this great home improvement project you realize you need to run to Wal-Mart to get something to help complete the job.
Depending on your age you might do the following:
In your 20's:
Stop what you are doing, shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush your teeth, floss, and put on clean clothes.
Then, you check yourself in the mirror and flex.
You add a dab of your favorite cologne because you never know, you just might meet some hot chick while standing in the checkout lane.
You went to school with the pretty girl running the register.
In your 30's:
Stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts, shirt, and change shoes.
You married the hot chick, so no need for much else.
Then, you wash your hands, comb your hair, and check yourself in the mirror (still got it!).
You add a shot of your favorite cologne to cover the smell.
The cute girl running the register is the kid sister to someone you went to school with.
In your 40's:
Stop what you are doing, put a sweatshirt on that is long enough to cover the hole in the crotch of your shorts, put on different shoes, and put on a hat.
Then, you wash your hands.
Your bottle of Brute Cologne is almost empty, so you don't want to waste any of it on a trip to Wal-Mart.
You check yourself in the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing.
The spicy young thing running the register is your daughter's age and you feel weird thinking she is spicy.
In your 50's:
Stop what you are doing, put a hat on, and wipe the dirt off your hands onto your shirt.
Then, you change shoes because you don't want to get dirt in your new sports car.
You check yourself in the mirror, and you swear not to wear that shirt anymore because it makes you look fat.
The cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming, and you think you still have it.
Then you remember the hat you have on is from Buddy's Bait & Beer Bar and it says, "I Got Worms."
In your 60's:
Stop what you are doing and hose the dog poop off your shoes.
There is no need for a hat anymore.
The mirror was shattered when you were in your 50's.
You hope you have underwear on so nothing hangs out the hole in your pants.
The girl running the register may be cute, but you don't have your glasses on so you are not sure.
In your 70's:
Stop what you are doing. You wait to go to Wal-Mart until they have your prescriptions ready too.
You don't even notice the dog poop on your shoes.
The young thing at the register smiles at you because you remind her of her grandfather.
In your 80's:
Stop what you are doing; start again; stop again.
Now you remember you needed to go to Wal-Mart.
Go to Wal-Mart and wander around trying to think what it is you are looking for.
You fart out loud, and you think someone called out your name.
You went to school with the old lady who greeted you at the front door
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Boy. . . this brings back memories ! As a teenager in the late 40s in Indiana, there weren't many jobs to be found, especially for those without skills. A buddy was working in the *big city* (South Bend) as a hod carrier making around 4 bucks an hr. which to me was a fortune. I asked him what he does & he said just wheelbarrow bricks to a mason. I thought I can do that so I went to the union hall, signed up & waited . Next day I heard a yell for a hod carrier. I jumped up & the man behind the desk gave me an address. I showed up at a site where an old house was being renovated & some plaster work being done. The foreman asked if I was the hod carrier. Yeah, I said. Good, he said. . . grab that hod, they need mud on the second floor. For those who don't know, a hod is a *V* on a pole, with one end closed & other end open. The hod was on an upright 2X4 rack. I took it off & started to scoop it full of mud. The foreman screamed, WHAT IN HELL YOU DOIN' ? I said, OK I never did this before, but I can do it if you show me. He mumbled to the mixer guy to show me. & he put the hod in a rack & filled it with a shovel. I was a skinny kid with not much meat on my shoulders, & that hod filled was HEAVY . . . I had to struggle toting it up a ladder to the second floor & dumped it on a board. A plasterer scooped it up with a swipe & said, MORE MUD ! I made a few more trips till lunch time then when I returned, they had a check waiting. *We won't need you anymore*
I got fired a lot in those days, thinking back. But each time, I learned a little more. Once I was working with some carpenters & one of them asked You call yourself a carpenter ? I said, I said I was a carpenter, I didn't say a GOOD one ! He didn't enjoy the humor !
Smitty
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First job in Canada (part time) was as a gas jockey. I was one of 2 kids hired. The other kid got a bit lippy with one of the mechanics, and had his pants filled with several pounds of grease from an airpowered grease gun as a reward. The kid went home crying, just to come back with his older brother and his dad. They proceeded to to go through the garage and office with floor-jack handles and crowbars doing countless of thousands of dollars worth of damage, smashing everything that could be smashed. They then piled a whole bunch of rags on the shop floor and doused them in (I think) gasoline. Alcohol may have been involved. <G> A couple of customers got involved at that time and prevented the place from getting burned down. Cops, fire engines, ambulances etc.
Quite a change from my job in Holland at a sleepy marina.
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On Thu, 9 Oct 2008 11:43:49 -0700 (PDT), Robatoy

You weren't in Hamilton by any chance?
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I remember my days back at Cogswell's Cogs. Mr. Cogswell was always screaming at me for my ongoing shenanigans.
Yours
George Jetson

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