Jack’s One Night Stands
By Anne Mikusinski and Ayesha Haqqiqa
Jack and Nora were enjoying an intimate dinner at Nora's brownstone, renewing their friendship of long standing. They had filled each other in on what had happened since they went their separate ways after law school, and were now looking back at that time with nostalgia.
"I still remember how busy you always were," Nora said. "Not only did you work on the Student Law Review with me, you always were out finding jobs for extra cash. But you never talked about them much. They must have been boring."
Jack shrugged. "Not quite. 'Interesting' is the word I'd use."
"Well then, from the look on your face, you must have had a lot of interesting jobs, Jack," Nora said as she held his hand in hers.
Jack smiled, "Oh yeah...some only lasted a day..."
"Like...?" Nora prompted, then paused. "Jack, why are you blushing?"
"Let's not talk about that one," Jack said quickly. "Let's talk about one that was funny. I got a delivery job at a florist's shop. Balloon bouquets had just come out, and they were the rage. My first delivery of the night was to a birthday party. The door opened, I held out the balloons, and started singing Happy Birthday. The next thing I know, this girl grabs me and drags me right into the apartment, to the middle of the party! It took me a while to figure out, but she thought I was her present! It took forever to get out of there, and the boss was mad when I came back late. I guess I got pretty disheveled, because he took one look and drew all the wrong conclusions and fired me on the spot!"
"Poor Jack!" Nora said, her lips twitching. "Anyone looking at you back then would have known you were just an earnest college student trying to make enough money to graduate!"
"Yeah, you'd think so." Jack said. "Of course, maybe it was the hair. I wore it long then, and somebody said I looked like a cross between Paul and Ringo."
"That somebody was me," Nora reminded him, " and you did, until you got your hair cut!"
"I had to, for the phone company job," Jack said. "And then it lasted only a day, too. I was supposed to be installing phone lines in an office building after hours. Of course, I got there a little early, about 4:30, so I could find out where everything was, and make sure the work order was correct. It was. So I get down on my hands and knees and start playing tag with the dust bunnies. I drilled the holes I needed, and stood up, only to find I had about a half dozen secretaries watching me! Like they'd never seen a man bent over before! I figured they were gloating because they were getting ready to leave and I had just started work. I tried my best to ignore them and got the spools of phone wire and went back to work. I heard a clock chime five, and figured everyone would be leaving soon. When I stood up again, there were more of them there, all watching! And they'd tangled up the wires. I had to push my way through the ladies to get the wires straightened out. That was when my supervisor came up in the elevator. One look, and I was out of a job again!"
"That was just before you tried being a singing waiter, was it?" Nora asked. "I happened to be at the restaurant that night, and I remember that!"
"Being a singing waiter was only the second most embarrassing job I held for a day. I told the manager I couldn't carry a tune, but she just kept looking at me and smiling, saying 'You'll do.' I figured she really wasn't a music lover, but the boyfriends of all the girls in the restaurant that night sure were! When I couldn't sing 'Toreador' from Carmen they started booing."
"I don't think it was because of your singing," Nora said, a ghost of a smile on her face. "As I recall, the ladies in question had compared you to Carmen's lover."
"I don't know," Jack said, "I don't remember. It was hard enough to fake singing, much less trying to say words in Italian! I knew I'd made a spectacle out of myself, and am heartfully grateful that you made no comments about it at work the next day."
"But you say that's your second most embarrassing job. What was the first?" Nora looked at Jack and smiled, who grinned back sheepishly. "Come on, Jack, it can't be that bad!"
"Well..." he said softly, "I …"He mumbled something.
"What?" Nora was really curious now.
"I mowed lawns for the city,” Jack finally said.
“That’s not embarrassing,” Nora said.
“It is if you mow the lake instead of the lawn!” Jack replied.
“WHAT?” Nora said.
“I was hired to work part time, in the evening. My first time there, they give me a lawnmower to push around the embankment. Something you didn’t do during the heat of the day. But there was still enough light, and I told my supervisor it would be a snap. The lawnmower was a large one, with wheels that were self-propelled. I lugged it up the embankment and turned it on. I worked the top of the embankment, and then started mowing up and down the slope. I should have mowed across, I know. Anyway, the machine got away from me. I chased it, and we both wound up in the lake, rather wet.”
“That is embarrassing,” Nora said. “But at least this time, the disaster didn’t involve girls.”
Jack looked at her and shook his head. “Oh, yes it did. I was mowing, and looked up. There, under a tree not far from me, was a girl in tight jogging shorts and a halter top. She had a camera, and was taking pictures. I was sort of distracted by her, and that’s when I let go of the mower.”
“Uh huh,” Nora said. From Jack’s expression, she knew there was more to the story.
“Well, she came over just as I brought the mower out of the water. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked. I told her sure. ‘Would you mind if I take your picture?’ she asked. I thought she was nuts, because my tee shirt and jeans were soaked, and my hair was blowing around every which way. I asked if she’d mind waiting until I got the machine on dry land. While I fiddled with the engine, she took several shots. About that time, my supervisor came up and asked what happened. I was fired on the spot.
“I was really down, then. But the girl, who had been standing nearby, came up to me and said,’ I’m sorry it happened, but maybe I can help. I’m Amanda Harrison, and I’m a professional photographer. I’ll pay you for permission to publish the shots I made of you working on the mower.’ I felt completely deflated then, because I’d planned to ask her out, and here she was, helping me!” Jack sighed. “I took the money, because I really needed the cash, and never saw her again.”
“There’s got to be more to it than that,” Nora said. “Were the photos ever published?”
Jack shrugged. “I heard later that they were in a coffee table book called Symphony in Sinew—A Study of the Working Men of New York, but I never checked it out.”
“Poor Jack!” Nora said sympathetically. “But at least you got something from that one night job!” To herself, she thought, “I wonder if the library still has a copy of Symphony in Sinew?”