CoxLuciaLuciaCox

Come Back when You Turn 18

2012-03-20T19:05:59Z

"Who do I talk to in order to get a job here?" Ivory asked. "Over there," the red haired attendant pointed with a hyper-extended finger.

Like a debutante, she walked tall and struggled to balance her body over the kitten heels of a pair of black, sleek Prada shoes.

Ivory was a young girl. A teenager of shiny, and not quite straight, light brown, silky hair; of blue eyes and soft, peachy skin.

Dressed in trendy black,--the color of every season-- like a debutante, she came walking in from the shop next door. One of many boutiques residing in a conglomerate of wealth and snobbery better know as Pena Shops.

Ivory walked up to the back of the plush store with a firm, but gracious stance, and with an air of determination.

At the beginning her voice was confident. Forming an attitude rehearsed for a grand entrance to what could be her break, her first true gig in a boutique famous for upscale--to-die-for-- stylish women's clothing.

And so the confident 17 year old debutante said, "Where can I get an application to work here?"

The manager, turning her neck around in a way that struck me as funny, demanded to know her age.

"How old are you?" "Are you 18?" Asked the forty-something woman behind the cashier counter.

In a sheepish voice, Ivory answered," Seventeen," adding that lazy lilting whine at the end of the word; a way of talking of the local girls, favored by teenagers as a sign of popularity with their friends at school but Ivory couldn't help to use it now because she was trying to hide her embarrassment.

"You're not 18." "No," confirmed Ivory in a hurried voice almost blending into one with the woman's utterance .

In the same breath, the woman--of whom Ivory was now beginning to realize was the manager-- said,"If you're not 18, you can't work here".

'But it's a clothing store for God's sake,... not a bar,' Ivory thought to herself.

"Come back when you turn eighteen," the manager said.

In what seemed to last an eternity Ivory's eyes scanned from cashier to cashier as strangers skillfully swiped credit cards into terminals to pay for the trendy selection of the season. Ivory felt rejection and humiliation all wrapped into one.

She felt the rush. First, an escalating state of shock, then shame, and later anger.

Ivory managed to get herself together and, like a debutante, walked out again, poised and tall.

My turn:

If you've ever been denied access to the work force as a young person, you probably know the sinking feeling of confusion after being told no . That you either are under the age requirement or don't have a track record of related experience to get the job. Fortunately, there's the day that some employer takes a chance to break through this dichotomy. One with sense and sensibilities.

Your Turn:

This is where you, as a reader, weigh-in on the issues and have a good time. Make your opinion and experiences count.

One last thing--it's about common sense--Don't forget to follow posting netiquettes;'do unto others", or your post will be deleted from this blog.

usafaband.flv

2010-01-16T22:55:00Z

Hey,Hey, Baby...I want to Know...if you'll be my girl!
USAFA Band @ Colorado Springs, CO.Sept 5, 2010.
Taped by less than amateur yours truly, over a sea of blues.
This song makes me so happy, I had to. Enjoy!

The Red Earrings

2010-01-04T13:16:00Z

She had never won a prize before,-- she was telling me -- until the week before. An Avon lady who had called on Shirley before, had called to say that she had won the prize from the $1 raffle that she had purchased at an Avon home party. She had won the red earrings.

Shirley proceeded to tell me that they were too fancy for her. That she had noticed that I liked to wear custom jewelry and then went on to say how well they would look on me. I was happy for her new found luck but, also flattered that she wanted to give them to me. Naturally, I accepted.Her eyes showed a brilliant sparkle that was typical of her. When her eyes sparkled you knew that her smile was also lighting the room, no need to look at her lips. Her joy was evident. Nothing but an exquisite development of events was in order. But not quite.

The days were usually uneventful for Shirley. She was in her late 50's and had a 7 to 3 job in the maintenance department at the same hospital where I worked, in Clearwater, Florida. It was evident that she was bored with her job because she'd rush to the nurses lounge on the pediatric floor for coffee and to chat with the nurses.

It was routine for the outgoing and incoming shifts to mingle in the lounge. She usually didn't want to leave. She preferred working on the pediatric floor more than she did in the OB and adult floors. I think she'd grown fond of the sick kids that kept us all busy to the point that we could use an extra set of hands. Shirley was encouraged with the children and teen patients progress, and their recovery was an encouragement for her to keep coming back to peek on them . She liked seeing them well enough even if they weren't being discharged to home, even if it was only a transfer to a step - down unit. Tears showed easily when a child on the floor died. Everybody liked Shirley.

A couple of weeks after the initial earring conversation I walked into the lounge. She saw me and immediately reached into one of the two pockets of her housekeeping uniform. With her stretched arms she handed me a red gift box. The kind that Avon jewelry came packed into,nested in white, delicate cotton. The gift box contained a pair of pierced earrings made of beads. A whole two bunches of generously cascading rounded, metal beads in a burnt red color; and surrounded by delicate leaves at the top. I think my impatience showed, because Shirley offered to help me put them on right away. I didn't know if the earrings matched my outfit -- and who cared, I had a white lab coat on most of the day anyway. I liked my red earrings. So much that I wore them often for months, a gesture that made Shirley notice and beam with joy. A person that exudes happiness is typically noticed.

A personality so pleasant that her absence one day would not go unnoticed. My duties changed almost on a monthly basis. When it involved outpatient clinics, it meant that I wasn't expected to be at the hospital, one reason being the travel distance between the sites.When I picked up hospital ward duties one Monday, Shirley wasn't at the pediatric floor . I figured that she had been assigned to the adult floors. But then came Tuesday, and I hadn't seen her either. I was beginning to worry by Wednesday, when I decided to go to the nurse supervisor's office to ask if Shirley had been on vacation. I pretended not to hear what the supervisor had just said.

"She died", the supervisor said. "Shirley died last week of an M.I.". I was dumbfounded. The supervisor didn't know much about the circumstances.Shirley seemed to be in great shape for her age. The thoughts reverberated in my brain. Apparently there were no prior signs nor symptoms of something being amiss with her health. And how could she have died of a heart attack... thoughts reverberating.

I continued to wear Shirley's red earrings almost like a standard earlobe fixture to accessorize my wear. I wore them like hardware, with my heart; in memory of a lady that beamed happiness in very unusual places; like in the children's floor, where the agony of pain and the fear of needles sometimes was all they had to look forward to; or, like in the heavily transited hallways and sick people's rooms splattered with visible and invisible pathogens and secretions. Wherever she went in our little sick world, she made it brighter.

Almost 20 years have passed since I received the beautiful, unselfish gift of the red earrings. Some years had already gone by before I discovered that the beads in my earrings were in the shape of hollie berries.

Hollies are a symbol of Christmas. Evergreen and beautiful. Reminding us all that brighter times are near, that springtime is just around the corner.

* Only the name in this story has been changed. This is a true story.
* Dedicated to a friend whom I wish I would have gotten to know more. Her kindness, optimism and joy are remembered. She left a deep void in the hearts of those that worked the hospital floors, especially in the pediatric ward. Rest in Peace, Shirley.

Welcome

2010-01-03T06:11:09Z

Welcome to my blog. Please check back soon for new entries.