So anyway, there I was, surrounded by the VC, fighting with Charlie.....No wait, that a movie. Man, old people huh? I think Sam Kenison and Rodney Dangerfield is in it.
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Disclaimer: The title of this post is the start of my soap opera for old people called "As the Burger Turns" or it could be titled "Tales from the Grill" or maybe even "Flipping for posterity", not sure what to call it yet. Anyway, to make this clear right from the start, everything in this post is wholly created from my own recollections, which may be faulty because I am old, or because I choose to lie about it, take your pick. At any rate, everything I post here today belongs to me, the good the bad and the ugly, and is a product of my highly developed imagination. If I use a situation that you know about and it was actually different, then SHADDUP! , just read it and don't ruin a good story with a correction about some trivial things called facts. It's a story, stories are based on what people think and everybody knows that people lie.
So anyhow, backing up just a little bit from yesterday and talking about the changes that happen all the time just about everywhere you go. When I first went to work at Steak `n Shake in the spring of 1974, I was this 16-year-old pimple-faced, long-haired, lothario with a thing for older women (I mean I was 16, I thought 25 was an older woman), and a greedy streak about a mile wide. I loved having cash money in my pocket and not waiting for payday all the time. I had not even considered waiting on cars as a "curbie" when I applied to work there, but I remember the manager at the time, a man named Wayne Duncan, who told me if I liked money working the curb would be a terrific thing for me as you got paid by every car and the better you were at serving, the more money you made.
It was a persuasive argument and on March 12,1974 I began my career by taking a curb tray with 6 of the 10-ounce water tumblers on them, balanced on my right hand at eye level, and walking to the other end of the parking lot. Right next to me was my trainer who told me when I got to be comfortable with the tray that I needed to swing it a little bit so it would move in step with me, it would swing as I walked and I could then start to move a tiny bit faster with each walk around the lot. That is all I did on the first day, well, I carried water and took out the trash. Curb 80, please!!
After a day or so of carrying water, my trainer told me to get my water and follow her. Then she took off running with the tray and the 6 glasses of water and I stood there going, UH, what the hell? Her name was Becky and I could already tell she didn't think much of me because I was this young stupid boy who had this goofy grin and some broken glasses. She had already told me to not even bother hitting on her before I even thought about it because she didn't dig young boys, ya dig? So as I watched her disappear into the distance, running off with the water, red hair blowing in the breeze, mysteriously somehow swinging that tray, running in full stride all the way to the end of the parking lot which was about 400 feet away or so.
I, on the other hand, had not moved an inch.
I was stunned.
She walked back to where I was standing and said something like "What happened?", I said "To what?", she said "To you?", and I thought, this girl is silly because she thinks I can do what she just did and run with her and a loaded tray to the end of the lot. I just said "So, you think I can do that?", and what she said stuck with me, She sorta challenged me and said, "You know this is what the girls like right?". I was hooked. Of course, I was young and stupid, and she had just given me a secret so I swallowed the hook and thought, "Well, if she can do it, I can do it" and I took off running with my tray of water tumblers.
Not the only time it ever happened, but I broke every one of those damn glasses. She had not told me how to stop, so when I stopped, the glasses didn't and they all went crashing over the edge. As I was trying to salvage them, I flipped the tray back towards me and most of the 60 ounces of ice-cold water came right back into my face. Then they hit the ground, Ice, water, tray, and now broken glass. An auspicious start if there ever was one. Becky just walked into the store, picked up the broom and dustpan she had already put by the front door in preparation for this moment. She walked out to me, handed them to me, and walked away without saying another word. I cleaned up the broken glass for about 15 minutes.
At least she didn't laugh, to my face anyhow.
My Uncle George it just so happened was the Division Curb Manager at the time, sort of like the chief Curb Captain of Car service for the Division office, which was in a lot of ways sort of like the District Manager of Curb Service. He came by the store to see how his nephew was doing on his first day on the job. I wasn't even aware he knew I had started work there, so it surprised me to see him. He asked me how it was going and I told him what happened, how I had sent the water glasses flying, and they now had me carrying paper cups with lids until I mastered the skill. He squashed that idea, got 6 more ice water glasses, and made me run with him, while he carried the tray and he demonstrated the proper techniques of bringing the tray up and down, starting, stopping, and delivering the drinks to the customer and so forth. He worked with me for about 2 hours individually and when he got done, I could do it and found out I was actually pretty good at it too.
Over the next few weeks, I learned a lot about making money, some good tricks, and some stupid habits that given time and context I saw later how dumb they were. I also found time to think about how my training had gone so far, and I thought to myself that if I was ever put in a position where I was responsible to train someone to perform a function, I would give them the same kind of personalized instruction and help that was afforded to me by My Uncle George on my second day of work. Not many people got that kind of training and I wondered if that was true then what kind of training did most people get? It was a powerful lesson that stuck with me all these years later and I never forgot it. Oh, and she was right too, Becky wouldn't give me the time of day, she laughed at me no matter what I suggested. I tried to be friendly with her, I think she just didn't like me. It turns out years later, it wasn't that she didn't like me, It was just that I didn't MATTER all that much. I was the FNG and she had seen a million of them.
Oh well.
I was 16 at the time, all 16-year-olds are idiots by definition, so what did I know?
So back to Franklin Road, I was appointed to be a Manager Trainee and was started in training to be a manager. I was eager to learn and it seemed like I was in a self-directed Montessori open classroom sort of 26-week training program. I filled out a self-evaluation every week, but what I did during the week was pretty much ran the place while Mr. Tetrick paid his bills, ran personal errands, talked on the phone, and a BUNCH of other things having little to do with running a burger joint. It turns out that he had been a District Manager for the company immediately prior to this and had been demoted to Unit Manager (Or Store manager as we called them back then) and his heart wasn't in the game. I never did know why he was demoted and truthfully, I didn't care all that much as I didn't really know him and he was pretty hard to get to know as he held you at arm's length all the time. All I knew was that if somebody wasn't in charge of this place, then my day was going to blow so I decided to just take over and let him rest. It didn't seem to matter to him one way or the other. I was fairly happy at the time because I got a pay raise to do what I always did, which was to work my ass off, do my job, and go home.
At the time I remember thinking that it couldn't get much better than this. I was barely 18 years old, got my pay bumped into the Manager zone where if you can believe it, I was making the princely sum of $2.625 per hour for the privilege of working 50-60 hours a week, 5 or 6 days per week and now I had enough money and a good enough job to get married. Also, I was working for these bunch of clueless turds like Mr. Tetrick that didn't give 2 squirts what I did so life was good. I was basically my own boss at 18 and ran a store unofficially of course, but being the short-sighted teenager I was, I can honestly say now, that I didn't know any better. I had my own key to the door, made my own coffee, opened the store and he would stroll in around 9:30 - 10:00 to do the banking.
It was barely more than 12K per year and I was rolling in the dough. Or so I thought. One day I came to work, found the door already unlocked coffee already made and half-drunk, and about half the line was already set up. Somebody was doing my job.
That was the day I met John Franklin Fair.
First impressions are important and as I found out much later I wasn't very impressive. I knew better, but I had not shaved that morning, my hair was longer than it should have been, my uniform was pretty rumpled, I never ironed a shirt at the time, I always wore wash and wear slacks and I am certain that my shoes had seen better days because I flat wore shoes totally out before I ever replaced them, mostly because I was a tightwad, but usually because, who thinks about shoes? So, pretty much I thought I was king of the world and I was a slob.
The first moment I saw Mr. Fair, I just knew this was going to be no walk in the park. He was just about 5' 10" maybe, about 220 pounds, had arms like an ape and canned hams for fists. He could have been a little taller I don't know, but he also could have been the bouncer. He had on basically the same uniform I did, except his was clean and pressed. Oh, and the toes of his shoes weren't all scuffed up and worn out either. I went over to him and introduced myself and said "Excuse me, sir, Who are you? Where is Mr. Tetrick?.", He just looked at me for about 15 seconds without saying a word then shook his head, said "I'm John, your boss. Go do whatever it is that you do around here." and I was DISMISSED.
So confused and not knowing what in the hell was going on, I went to check the line, started changing plates in the grill box, making sure the steam wells had water in them, checked the hot fudge pump, stocked the shake base and ice cream and got a pan of hot water and cleaner and began to wipe down and check the entire line to make sure it was ready to go for lunch hour. A couple of the other crew members asked me if I knew what was going on and I just said"That's John, your new boss, go ask him." I didn't know it at the time, but two things happened that morning that I found out later had changed Mr. Fairs' opinion of me. His first impression was "Well here is another slob to get rid of", and his first impression was that he was probably going to have to replace me too because I didn't look like I cared much about my job. What saved me was I was polite, wouldn't immediately engage in gossip, and went to work checking the line and worked hard at getting the place clean and ready for lunch. I doled out assignments, got cleaning lists made, made sure the bathrooms were clean, the floors got mopped and the lot got picked up. He caught me using a 14 point program checklist, asked me what it was and what it was used for. After I answered him he asked me if I had been doing it long enough that I didn't need the checklist, I told him probably but somebody told me one time that pilots with thousands of hours of flying time still used a checklist every day to make sure they didn't forget anything so I thought it was a good idea.
After lunch hour was over that day Mr. Fair asked me if I wanted to keep my job. I was sort of stunned and said, Of course, It's a pretty good job and I like doing it. He said when I came into work tomorrow and every day after that I needed a new pair of shoes, some new shirts as my collars were severely frayed, some new slacks as mine were worn out and I had to shave every single day. Then he said do you think you can do that? I told him honestly that I could not as it was about 2 days until payday and had already paid my bills and didn't have any money set aside. I told him that I could do all of it by the day after payday, and I would be clean-shaven tomorrow. He just looked at me. Then said go back to work, come and find me and see me before you go home.
Oh boy, aw crap, ah hell. I screwed up now, I shoulda lied, I shoulda said I could do whatever he wanted. I just know he is gonna fire my ass.
I went and found him after I clocked out and he pointed at his car, said can you be an hour late getting home? I said yes, He told me to go get in the car. I went and sat in the front seat of his car and wondered just what fresh hell I had walked into. I was so nervous I think I could not have shit a pebble because my ass was so tight at this point. He came out of the back door, deposit in hand, locked the door, got in the car, started it up, and drove it away. Me and him, him confident and large and in charge, Me with an ass puckered up so tight I am sure I sat up about three inches taller than I usually did. He drove down to the bank, dropped off the deposit, and went down to the mall. We got out of the car and he and I walked into the mall. He found the Barbershop/style salon whatever it was, pointed at a chair, said "Sit", so I sat, he went over and talked with the stylist who then called me over and put an apron neck thingie on me, and cut my hair. No direction from me at all, and when I attempted to say what I wanted she just pointed at John and said "Your dad told me what to do."
Ok, so I am totally freaked out at this point and have no clue what in the hell is happening, but it looks like I'm getting a haircut. I needed one anyway so I just said what the hell and let it happen.
Over the course of the next whirlwind 45 minutes or so we purchased a couple of shirts, some slacks, some shoes, some socks and I got a haircut. At this point, Mr. Fair had not said 50 words to me the entire fricking day. We got back to the store, he turned to me in the car and said: "Now can you start looking like I asked you to look, starting tomorrow?", My answer was "Yes sir Mr. Fair sir." He told me "Well that's just fine", and he said he would see me at whatever time it was that I was supposed to be there the next day, told me I owed him for what we had just spent on me, told me to get out of his car and left me standing there, right near the back door of the old Franklin Road Steak `n Shake location.
I am sure I had the biggest and goofiest grin on my face that anyone had ever had on their face and I just knew that something special had just happened to me, although to tell you the truth I had no idea what I was in for.
Stay tuned for part Three of as the burger turns.
BigMike
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