Working For Sixty Dollars A Month

After graduating from college at the ripe old age of twenty eight, I was ready for adventure and wanted to see another state besides California. How could I use my A.S. degree in Dietetic Technology?

Perusing the job board one day, I saw an advertisement for a job in Indiana. Job duties would include cooking breakfast and lunch at a high school academy in a remote town called Cicero. The pay was sixty dollars a month. Yes, that's right, sixty dollars a month plus room and board. This would be my big adventure.

Not surprisingly, I was the only person that applied for the job. I signed the necessary paperwork and waited for my plane tickets to arrive. My flight would take four hours and I would be picked up in Indianapolis and taken to my new living quarters in the basement of the girl's dorm.

As we drove to the academy, I stared out the window at this state that would be my home for the next year. All I could see was flat, brown countryside and endless stretches of highway. Even my driver and his wife remarked how ugly and flat Indiana was. We backed up to the girl's dorm and I met the girl that I would replace.

Terri would train me in the week that she had left. My day started at 4:30 A.M. Dressed in a white uniform and shoes, I was responsible for cooking breakfast and supervising a small staff of students. One student made toast and others helped serve on the tray line. Terri showed me the posted menus and she dished up fruit while I started the eggs

At precisely seven o'clock, we opened the line for breakfast and the hordes of students filed in. The boys kicked and punched each other as they waited to be served. When every one had been served, those who desired could come back for seconds.
On pancake day, I stood at the griddle for the whole hour that the students were eating. One favorite trick of the students was to claim there was a hair in their pancakes, and once one did it they all followed suit.

It soon became apparent why I was hired at a flat rate of sixty dollars a month. I was also in charge of baking all the bread from scratch and making about 10 trays of cinnamon rolls. Once the cinnamon rolls were done, it was time to hide them from the students so they wouldn't eat them all. After the rats had a tasty feast, we had to stop putting them in the pantry closet.

Along with feeling overworked, I was also homesick. I hated working with kids, I missed California, and I just wanted to go home. The principal, Mr. Nelson, made the mistake of calling me to see how things were going. Soon I was a sobbing mess as I blubbered on about how the kids were getting on my nerves, this big adventure of mine was a big mistake, and I wanted to go home NOW! The poor guy didn't know what to say. He finally suggested I give it time and we would talk in a few weeks.

As time went on, I started to get in to the routine and the kids seemed to get on my nerves a little less. I was in my basement apartment one Sunday when I heard an ominous gurgling from the toilet. Within 15 minutes the sewer line broke as I frantically moved what I could to the higher shelves. My whole carpet was soaked with feces. I ran to the home of the maintenance man and blurted out my sordid news. He was watching the football game and would not even bother to come and see what was wrong. From there I raced across the street to the principal's home and gave him the same message. He too was watching the football game and thought I was exaggerating the situation. Once the game was over, they realized the seriousness of the situation and blamed me for the whole thing.

I was moved to the basement of the boy's dorm and that's when the fun began. Boys in the dorm kicked and knocked on the door at all hours. Of course when I answered no one was there. At least I now had a television to pass the hours that I was not working.

One of the only things keeping me sane was the Dairy Queen in the center of town. Many an afternoon found me drowning my sorrows in a veggie burger and Peanut Buster Parfait. Since the academy was Seventh Day Adventist and we were not supposed to buy anything on the Sabbath, I would pretend to walk to church and then sneak down to the Dairy Queen. Along with midnight raids of pecan pie in the cafeteria, I ended up gaining twenty pounds.

Determined to just complete my obligation of working till the end of the school year, I took each day as it came. I caught one student stealing ice cream bars and promptly turned him in to the principal. That made the whole student body mad at me. Students lined up outside before meal times would yell at me and kick the doors.

One of the funnier incidents that I remembered involved our student who was responsible for making the toast. Jon and I were the only ones in the kitchen one morning when I saw a mouse scurry across the floor. I screamed and Jon ran to get the broom. After a frantic chase, Jon announced that he had killed the mouse. Sighing with relief, I went back to my meal preparations. Jon brought the mouse on a dustpan and chased me around the kitchen with it.

After seven months I worked up the nerve to ask for a raise. The principal let out a horrified gasp and proudly waved the letter I had signed in front of me stating that I would work for sixty dollars. I persevered and got a raise to $200.00 a month.

I ended up staying for three months past the school year. What did I learn from my big adventure? First, any kind of career working with high school students was out. Secondly, I still count Peanut Buster Parfaits and pecan pie as my favorite desserts. Last and most important, by staying for my whole term and beyond, I know that I can take any situation no matter how bad it is, and make something positive out of the experience.