meter-reader

Lincoln was asking me what my very first job was. I told him I used to babysit, but he said, no your first real job. So I told him about my days as a meter maid. Seriously...

My 8th grade science teacher, Mr. Parker, hired me to be his "scribe" while he read the water meter. I would walk next to him with this big, huge book and write down the number in the log. Sometimes I even had to jump down into the hole, with the flashlight to read the meter.
I'm thinking he did this to supplement his income. I worked for him on Saturdays and eventually weekdays in the summer. Pretty soon I worked my way up to became the "reader". I carried this big tool around called the "key". It kinda looked like the tool you used to use to turn your sprinklers on. Apparently, this was my first real working experience. He paid me 10 cents per meter. It was pretty good money. And all cash.

The real point of my story is this:
In the summer, I used to wake up, put on some base (make-up) and head out. Literally, that was all I put on my face. After a while, he offered to take me to his daughter, who was a beautician, to give me some tips about make-up! Mr. Parker was probably 60 years old. I was a little offended but took him up on the offer. So he takes me into Ogden to his daughter's salon and she was...let's say...a rocker chick?! She had long permy hair, nails a mile long, tatooes, caked-on make-up and a short-short skirt. I was scared. I was 14. I mean, I think his intentions were good, but whoa!

I think what I had goin on wasn't so bad.