My Own Two Feet
“I moved to a first-floor room next to Mrs. Cochran and, when she was out, answered the door and showed rooms, thus keeping Mother partially honest. I made beds, cleaned bathrooms, ran the vacuum cleaner, counted laundry. Fortunately, not all the forty-one rooms were rented.
To earn my meals I worked an hour before dinner in a men’s boardinghouse across the street, where I had various duties: setting the table, making salad, cutting two colors of Jell-O into cubes and heaping them into sherbet dishes so they would look like more dessert than they actually were, ironing shirts for the landlady’s sons. She ran a tight boardinghouse and once reprimanded a summer student from Stanford for asking for butter when he already had jam for his toast, a scene that reminded me of Oliver Twist asking for more gruel. Jamless or butterless, I was happy to be self-supporting, standing on my own two feet for the summer.
Soon after I started my humble chores, Clarence was offered a position by the new D...epartment of Employment in Sacramento.MoreLess
To earn my meals I worked an hour before dinner in a men’s boardinghouse across the street, where I had various duties: setting the table, making salad, cutting two colors of Jell-O into cubes and heaping them into sherbet dishes so they would look like more dessert than they actually were, ironing shirts for the landlady’s sons. She ran a tight boardinghouse and once reprimanded a summer student from Stanford for asking for butter when he already had jam for his toast, a scene that reminded me of Oliver Twist asking for more gruel. Jamless or butterless, I was happy to be self-supporting, standing on my own two feet for the summer.
Soon after I started my humble chores, Clarence was offered a position by the new D...epartment of Employment in Sacramento.MoreLess
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