Two Extra Washrooms

Two Extra Washrooms

"Harold's Gas Bar" may be the only family-owned truck stop in the province with 4 washrooms: 2 for staff and 2 for customers.

I did that so my staff won't suffer the humiliation I endured my first day here. I suppose I'll have to explain that so I'll tell you the story.

I remember I hurried in almost on time for my first shift. I was proudly carrying my starchy-new navy uniform: trousers with a razor crease, a jacket with lapels and a pen holder, a smart cap with a brim. Dad always wanted his staff to look neat and tidy.

There was some trucker in the washroom with hemmorhoids or constipation or something. I couldn't wait. Of course I couldn't use the women's washroom.

I decided to get changed in the variety store section. At that time store hours bylaws were stricter than they are now, so the variety section was only open about 9 hours a day. The door was 6 feet high. No one could see me there, or so I figured.

I had my jeans off and was about to put on the uniform when I remembered that the razor-sharp creases on the outside meant it would be stiff and scratchy on the inside. A trucker had once told me the cure for that was talcum powder. He'd bought some from Dad, so there had to be some here!

I scrounged around for a minute and found three tins at the back of the middle shelf. I didn't have time to figure out where it was going to scratch, so I shook some all over and yanked on the pants.

Then I did the same to the coat and buttoned myself into it. As I reached to put the tin back on the shelf, I felt the suit slide over my shoulder and was glad I'd thought of this. I'd have to buy the tin after my shift and use it again tomorrow.

After I laced on my shoes I strolled casually out to see what Dad wanted me to do first. The Ferguson girls were leaving, giggling as usual, but looking at me. I bet they were making fun of my wonderful uniform! They were just jealous. Girls never got to wear anything this great!

Dad just told me to watch the till for a moment. That was OK, as long as nobody wanted to pay. I'd never used the till in my life.

So of course Old Lady Adams hobbles over right away. "How are you today, Mrs. Adams? Did you like your Salisbury steak?" I'd have said anything to put her off, but it didn't work. She handed me the bill right away. Why wasn't there anyone else here? I didn't even know what key to push to open the till!

I could feel myself turning red staring at the till, and then Dad was back. He just took the bill and entered it right away. I noticed that the till didn't open until he had finished typing, but I wasn't sure which keys he punched. I was trying to figure it out while Mrs. Adams hobbled painfully out the door. She always told us how painful it was, anyway, and she should know.

Then Dad plunked down that can of talcum powder and told me to pay for it! How did he know?

I just gawked at it with my chin on the floor and my eyes floating in front of their sockets. For some reason Dad launched into a lecture about using only a little where it was needed. I knew all that, I just hadn't had time to figure out which spots they were.

"Bu'..., but." What I was trying to say was that everyone in the place could see he was selling me a can of talcum powder. That's like perfume! Girl's stuff! Didn't he have any sense of common decency?

He didn't get it. "If you haven't got the money on you, I can let you have it on your employee tab."

I got it. He was worried that I was trying to steal the stuff. "Oh no, I'm gonna pay for it. But do you have to tell the whole world?" Didn't he understand that this sort of stuff a guy pays for after the shift, when there's no one else around?

Dad had no sympathy. He poked one thumb toward the window wall where the Ferguson girls were grinning from behind their purple fingernails. They couldn't hear but they could see every move. "What I say or don't say doesn't matter much. They saw the whole thing in the security mirror." And he poked his other thumb up at the incriminating mirror, which showed a fine view of the variety store section.

Well, I just about died. The rest of the shift passed in a haze. For years I never talked about my first day at work, but when I took over the station from Dad, one of the first things I did was put in two extra washrooms.

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