I got the news last week that a local grocery store in the neighborhood where I grew up is closing. It's about bloody time, I say, because that Albertson's was just a complete wreck. Besides, the SuperTarget and the slick Tom Thumb are just offering too many attractions: better prices, better selection, cleaner stores...hell, I hadn't shopped in that Albertson's in a long time myself.
However, the store lasted almost 20 years, and in summer of 1987 was just a shit hot place to shop. I believe that the store slogan was a bit more catchy (it's your store), but truly, circa '87-89, it was the place to be.
The special thing about Coit and Campbell Albertson's for me is that, with one exception, my oldest friends come from that area, in fact that very store. First, a brief pause while I say happy belated birthday to my buddy Jeff, who is the oldest friend that I have. He's not old; our friendship is.
The store opened in summer of 1987, but I spent that summer doing some odd jobs and travelling a lot with my church youth group. My junior year in high school had been a bit rough: I'd had hip surgery the previous summer, and had spent all of first semester walking with the aid of crutches. Not the best situation for a high school student trying to put up with all the crap. I think that's why I didn't try too hard to get a summer job in between my junior and senior year, choosing instead to play a bit more.
That was all fine and dandy until I ran out of money.
One Saturday morning in October of 1987, I went up and applied to be a clerk at the local Albertson's. I got the job, and suddenly found myself working about 40 hours a week. I'd really had to sell my parents on the idea of a "part time" job during the school year, but I pointed out that I'd already sent out my college applications, and basically only had to complete the final year of high school without failing anything. (though it's for another story, I did have a bit of a problem in a math course, which almost kept me from getting out of JJ Pearce)
Fall of 1987, though, was cool cool cool. Along with guys like Pace and Abe, we had a lot of fun mucking around in the grocery store. Sacking groceries is not particularly difficult, but the store was new and very popular; it was one of the busiest stores around.
One day soon after I started, one Whitman Stansbery started to work there, also, and we were less than friendly to one another for the next couple of months. However, after a few jokes and smokes, we eventually became friends, and had loads of laughable moments racing carts around the store, sacking groceries, and pulling stunts. We happened to be two of the best front end clerks that the store had, not that we really cared.
Alas, Whitman got a job at a movie theatre near Prestonwood Mall, and I was very sad to see him leave. Meanwhile, there were several other coworkers I befriended, and as we moved through the holiday season (yep - I worked Thanksgiving Day), it was great seeing everyone shop for their Christmas Dinners and parties, buying trees, etc. There was truly a certain spirit to the store.
The tips came fast and furious, and because, and I can't believe I'm putting this on paper, I was on the squad that ran the mascot up and down the field during high school football games, a few people knew who I was. Store management recognized my abilities, and wanted me to become a checker, but I declined, saying that I needed the flexibility of roaming the store. (I don't like being confined to one check stand; being a clerk meant I could float around)
Well, 1988 came with a squeak, and I got accepted into college and finished the high school year. I managed to take two or three study halls the last semester, so I was pretty much cooking to 4o hours a week at the store, sometimes more. I liked having cash flow, and again, after a couple of rough years earlier in high school, I was glad to have a bit of responsibility, make some money, and meet a ton of people.
Some of my fellow school mates worked with me, and as the school year came to a close, a few started whispering about the return of a fellow employee that summer. "Oooh! Chris is really cool," Kenny said one day in the lounge. "Yes, and he's a really nice guy," remarked another girl who's name (I think) was Debbie.
I didn't really think too much of it at the time. Another employee coming in for the summer. OK. But I was already gearing up for a fun summer in the store before I headed off to school. How cool could this returning guy be?
It took about half a day before McKee and I were yukking it up in the store. As usual, I took my share of digs on him as we were getting to know one another. Likewise, he used his wit and accounting skills to give me a hard time about being a clerk instead of a bag boy. But, a friendship formed, and it turned out to be one crazy summer.
Whitman decided to return to work at the store, so that added to the mayhem. Pablo snuck in for a very brief time, so brief, in fact, that when we met one another a year and a half later, I didn't believe that he'd actually worked in the store, but he was there.
And we all wore blue polyester vests.
I won't take the opportunity here to play the memory lane trip: the woman in the yellow dress, Hawaiian Days, butcher block ice, "Florence," and girls like Sandy and Peggy and umpteen post work parties are things that I'll reminisce with Whit and Chris and Pablo about another time.
The significance is that it was 20 years ago this summer that we all started the show. Between the four of us, we've managed to scatter ourselves around the world a little bit at various times, and have managed to keep in regular contact, though not nearly as much as I'd like. Yes it helps that Pablo and I went to uni together, and because Chris met Lori that summer, I've known her for almost as long as I've known Chris. In my own special way, I've helped them become Arsenal fans, and they still let me stay at Little Goliad. I'll spare the emotions and save another story for how cool Chris and Lori are; I think there's a limit to the number of characters I can use in blogger. Whit left Texas in 1989 for Pennsylvania, but somehow he and I have managed to continue to make each other laugh from wherever we happen to be, whether in PA, Boston, Dallas, Colorado, Spain, and now, Germany. Yes, Whit, I still owe you a visit in Colorado, but it's going to be a while before I get stateside again, I think.
Whew, I needed to get the Albertson's bit off my chest. I'm not sorry to see the store close, but I am sorry to see that an old haunt from one of the happiest times from my adolescence is soon to be no longer. How fortunate I am that the circumstances were such that all of us would become such friends while goofing around in a supermarket. Really.
It was those days at Albertson's that I was thinking about on our drive back from Brussels. My colleague put his foot down, and we made a 400 km trip in a little under 3 1/2 hours. Quite impressive, if not slightly illegal.
For me, it was particularly cool, because I had to get back to Frankfurt in time to watch a 2nd leg match between Arsenal and Tottenham. After making the big push, I was not thrilled to find MacGowan's filled with several folks watching Bundesliga matches. Normally, the German league doesn't play on Wednesdays, and I hadn't considered this as a possible obstacle. A German Arsenal fan came in, recognized me, and said, "let's make the guy put the Arsenal game on the 2nd television."
Well, the bartender tried, but was missing a cable. Newfound Arsenal friend Richard simply phoned another buddy up and told him to bring a cable down. So, 4 minutes after kick off we were watching Arsenal.
The team struggled, the match went to extra time, but Arsenal prevailed once again. During both legs of this tournament, I've met several Tottenham fans who have all given respect to the reserve team that Arsenal fields in this particular competition. It really is incredible to watch the young team play with such heart and composure, not to mention talent.
Another Arsenal victory made it easier to sleep, but Thursday and Friday were both pretty busy days, especially since I'd spent the first part of the week out of the office. When Friday afternoon arrived, I was ready for anything, just no more work.
Of course, I really needed to spend some time working over the weekend, but first, I was going to hit MacGowan's for a festive Friday. It's where I tend to spend each Friday evening, and it's always interesting. This time was no different.
Around 8.45, I walked in the bar to find all the stools taken at the bar. I ordered a beer and sat near the window, keeping a close watch for an opening. Eventually a spot freed itself, and I found myself sitting next to a girl that I recognized from Wednesday evening. She was nursing her Newcastle (just had to use the alliteration there) and I was just collecting my own thoughts with my pils. Tom, one of the Serbian bar tenders, put in a Smith's greatest hits CD, and suddenly he and I were singing with fervor, albeit quietly. I noticed the girl next to me enjoying the music, too, and was about to make a comment when she asked me about the Smiths.
Like any other German, her skill at English is pretty impressive, but I made a fair attempt to continue the conversation in German whenever possible. The Smiths are a favorite band of mine from 87-88, and I'm always pleased to hear the group when I out and about. They're not particularly popular in Germany, but this girl's sister had been a fan, and thus gotten her into the music. Interesting to get the perspective on Smith lyrics from a German, especially lyrics like, "Bishop in a tutu," or ..."Double decker bus kills the both of us," etc.
Eventually, the bar turned the Smiths off so that the live band could play. Within a short time, this girl was eager to dance, despite there being a lack of space to move about. The bar was steadily growing more crowded, and we'd both managed to have a few more beers each.
Sonia (as she became known to me) went to get a closer look at the band, came back with her hair done a different way, and repeated this at least two more times. Confusing though it was, it was sort of impressive that she could change her appearance in such a short period of time.
Yes, I was dragged to the dance floor, and yes, I did dance, but certainly not as well as she moved. At this point in the evening, I was aware of how many beers she had consumed, but she had no problems moving around to the beat of the music.
However, around 1am, she sat down and was noticeably fuzzy. I did the right thing and escorted her around the corner to her house, and left without getting her telephone number, like an idiot.
I woke up Saturday feeling reasonably OK (certainly better than Sonia, I assume), did a bit of shopping, then went for my first haircut in Germany. From there, I hit the gym, then had a bit of lunch at home before heading back to MacGowan's to watch the afternoon's Arsenal match.
I'm not a fan of rugby, but probably should start following the competitions a bit just so I'll know when there could be a viewing conflict. England was playing Scotland on Saturday, which meant that loads of guys were hanging around the bar watching the game.
I had a quick beer in MacGowan's, then raced to another bar in town where I knew they'd be showing my match. At O'Reilly's, it was equally crowded, but at least they had one fernseher showing Arsenal - Middlesboro. I was feeling a bit out of sorts (as I tend to do in a new crowded bar) and when Arsenal gave up a penalty, I was pretty hacked.
My mood improved a few minutes later when Henry scored a nice goal for the equalizer. Alas, Arsenal were unable to get a go ahead goal, so we finished in a draw.
Back I went to MacGowan's to find a seat at the bar; quite a few folks who had been watching rugby were still there, including 4 guys who had been drinking all afternoon. Two broken glasses and a tipped over chair later, they decided that they didn't believe that they had to pay for the 17 pints of beer they'd drunk.
At that particular moment, I was chatting with the other Serbian bar tender, Goran, and we were laughing at how waxed these four guys were. One of them tried to take a digi pic of his mates, but had the camera pointed the wrong way so ultimately set the flash off right in his eyes. Twice.
The bar manager showed up, found that the four said gents were arguing about the bill (which, to my disbelief, was only about 80 Euros...not that big of a deal between four people), and ultimately had to call the polizei.
Most everyone was being civil about the whole thing, which was comforting. I continued to joke with Goran about excessive drinking as the police showed up, made the guys pay their bill, and returned service to the bar. "Thank goodness I don't ever do stuff like that," I remarked to Goran.
I'd forgotten about the three guinness I'd had at O'Reilly's, but had a nice plate of bangers and chips for dinner, and really thought that it would carry me through. Around 1ish, I headed home for nighty night.
Well, the remainder of the evening probably could have gone better, but in the end, I gave up all my beer and dinner, and went to bed looking like someone had run over me in their car.
I don't like getting sick, but looking back, I'm kind of glad that I was, because I only felt horrible on Sunday as opposed to feeling like death.
A few coffees and a quiet time listening to Debussy helped me feel good enough to visit the gym, where I had a fair workout.
I regained my appetite, had a couple of kebaps, and spent the evening watching a James Bond movie in German.
I don't sleep much right now, mainly because of the stuff involving work. However, I do feel relatively chipper today, even with the cold rain outside.
Hopefully I'll have a couple more updates about things very very soon.
keep the faith
bryan
suggested soundtrack
The Clash -Lost in the Supermarket
The Smiths - William, It Was Really Nothing
Underworld - Born Slippy
The Who - My Generation
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