How I spent my summer (by others)
The conversation over lunch today turned to summer jobs. A little unexpected, given that we’re all permanent, full time employees, safely installed at the teat of the civil service. Think of it as a subject that was more personal than the endless rounds of who did what when and where with whom which fuels most office chit chat.
Now, I’m somewhat removed from the time when a summer job was a chance to learn about the “real world”. As the senior among this group of citizens, I’m probably closer to the war stories of my children than to my own. What was statistically significant in the gang was the number of (them) that have worked in the fast food industry. Cookers, as we use to refer to the breed.
I escaped that layer of hell (Dante, for those who need references) and in retrospect am better for the lack. It turns out that there are only so many ways to prepare a dead hen for resale. Despite their personal education, none own pressurized deep fryers at home, nor do they blend their coating with anything close to eleven different herbs and spices before preparing Saturday supper. So much for summer job as a training ground for life without Mom.
One among us had experience on a boat, another with building supplies and a third fueled the Monday morning thirst of the dry. Again, my summer jobs were less traditional than the others. I do know who will get my next hapless handyman query. None ever held a job that related, in any way, shape or form, to what we do now.
