Saturdays
Continuing the story of growing up. Part 1 and Part 2.
I’m not sure when this happened but somewhere along the line my parents opened the store on Saturdays. Perhaps they were open on Saturdays when they bought the store. Any how every Saturday morning we would trek on down to the restaurant. We didn’t have to get up quite as early, say around 7 or so, but it was still a pain. Normally there was a breakfast rush and then very little for lunch. And we’d close at 2 rather than 3 or 3:30.
However between 9 and 2 we did not have a dishwasher so guess what? Yup you got it. My brother and I were the dishwashers. We had a dishwashing machine, but it was very low power and we only put silverware in it. And we got paid for what we did, but it was $5 bucks a day. I know minimum wage wasn’t what it is today, but that $5 sure didn’t seem like a lot at the end of the day. Granted we didn’t wash dishes all day, but after awhile my brother and I grew to hate Saturdays just for that fact.
As time went on things would change…for the worse and for the better.
