I wouldn??™t work for just anyone.

I had standards. I??™d only work for someone who would actually hire me.

I was just out of high school.  I was barely housebroken, but deemed trainable. 

I worked at Bird??™s Eye in Waseca, Minnesota.

It was a plant that processed sweet corn and peas, as well as manufacturing Cool
Whip.

I worked from 11 at night until 7 in the morning.  People called it the graveyard shift.
It wasn??™t a bad job and the company treated me well.

My job was working in the compressor room.  The compressor room was a large
room filled with mammoth Freon and ammonia refrigerating machines.  These
mechanical monsters were responsible for keeping cool all of the products that needed
cooling.

The compressor room was a noisy place.  The telephone was hooked up to a loud-
speaker that caused a ring to be loud enough to raise the dead.

The compressor room was an odoriferous place.  All of the ammonia made it smell
like Mr. Clean had had an accident.

When I first started working there, I apprenticed under a wily veteran, a fellow over
twice my age named Eddie.  He was a good guy and I enjoyed working with him.

One night, we were on a lunch break.  I had just devoured a couple of baloney
sandwiches on white bread and a little lemon pudding.  Life was good.

My supervisor, Eddie, with a full tummy after inhaling leftover hotdish, took a nail
clipper out of his pocket and began to clip his fingernails.

We??™d been working together for a few weeks and I figured that was long enough for
us to bond.  We had become buddies to my estimation.

Eddie finished clipping his nails and prepared to put the clipper back into his pocket
when I asked him if I could use his clipper.  I told him that I didn??™t have one of my
own.

???No, you may not use my nail clipper!??? was his curt reply.

Wow!  I??™d even said ???please.??? So much for taking courtesy for a spin.

???Don??™t bite my head off,??? I thought.  I didn??™t say anything.  A remarkable achievement
for a mouthy me. We had to work together.

Later in the night, after we had done the better part of an overhauling job on an
ammonia refrigeration unit, I decided to bring up the subject of the nail clipper.

???Say, Eddie, why wouldn??™t you let me use your nail clipper? I thought we were friends.
All I wanted to do was to eliminate one little hangnail.  I wasn??™t going to keep your nail
clipper.  Is it a special one given to you by the President of the United States for
meritorious service in the field of refrigeration????

I was a bit of a smart aleck in those days.

Eddie gave me a hard look and said, ???If I had let you use my nail clipper, you and I
would probably start sharing a lot of things.  We??™d trade lunches and give each other
advice.  We??™d start hanging around together after work.  We??™d go fishing. I??™d most
likely even let you use some of my prized fishing tackle.???

???Is this story going somewhere???? I asked.

???Well, you seem like a nice fellow--not too smart--but nice.  I??™d get so I??™d enjoy your
company rather than just putting up with it like I do now.  I??™d get so I really liked you
and when I like someone, I invite them over to my house for dinner.  So I??™d invite you
over for dinner and you being the poor, starving wretch that you are, you??™d accept
my  invitation.???

???I don??™t see any problem here so far.???

???Well, if you came to my house for dinner, you??™d probably meet my daughter.  She??™s
the same age as you are.  She??™s beautiful and she has some of the same interests in
books, music and nature that you do.  She??™d like you--she can find some redeeming
value in everyone. You two would get to talking and you??™d probably ask her out.  She,
lacking some in common sense, would agree to date you.  One thing would lead to
another and you two would fall in love.  You would fall for her beauty and she would
feel pity for you.  She??™d be sure that she could change you. You would date for a
while and you??™d become engaged. Then you two would get married.  You would be
my  son-in-law.???

???I??™m lost,??? I said. ???Where does the nail clipper come in????

???The point is that I don??™t want any daughter of mine marrying some guy who can??™t
even  afford his own nail clipper! 

?©Al Batt 2004
71622 325 St.
Hartland, MN 56042
SnoEowl@aol.com