Eating Words: Grand Prairie

The summer of 1981 forced me to grow up a little. I had made an arrangement with my Aunt Bernice to stay with her for that summer and get a job where she and my Uncle Carroll lived--Hurst, Texas. I was between my Junior and Senior years of high school at Elk County Christian in Saint Marys, Pennsylvania.

I took the train because my father's job allowed me to ride for free as long as I was under eighteen. I was so excited because I would have an eight hour layover in Chicago--and I was thrilled to finally be able to see the Sears Tower since I had never been before. But that's another story.

When I arrived to Texas, the job search got off to a very slow start. One day, my Aunt Kay--who lived in Grand Prairie--came to Hurst and asked why I couldn't just try to find a job there. I was welcome to stay with her. I'm not sure how Aunt Bernice felt about this but I don't recall any objections. So, off to Grand Prairie I went. According to my Aunt Kay and cousin John (her son, a year younger than I) there were numerous opportunities for 16-year olds in their fine city. For those of you not up to speed on Texas geography, Grand Prairie and Hurst are really bedroom communities. Cities in their own right, their growth was facilitated by their proximity to two large cities; Grand Prairie to Dallas and Hurst to Fort Worth. They were right. I was able to find a job within a couple of days. I would be working at a place called Winchell's Donuts. Today, there is little evidence that this chain of donut shops ever existed in North Texas. Though still in operation as a subsidiary of a new company, Winchell's once ubiquitous presence in Texas is now just a memory. Some of my contemporaries may remember the music video for Rock the Casbah by The Clash which was filmed in Austin, Texas. In this video (filmed in 1982 I believe) there is a scene where an armadillo is seen passing by a Winchell's Donuts location.

I immediately became fond of the menagerie of characters that worked in this little donut shop. It was located a few blocks from Aunt Kay's house in a shopping center anchored by a Piggly Wiggly grocery store. I soon made friends with the guy who fried and baked the donuts every morning around 3 or 4 am. His name was John Hernandez. One day, he invited me to his house to have a few beers but I soon found out that there was something even better at his place--and so I smoked weed for the first time. I loved it! From that day forward, I would be spending a lot of time with John, his wife and their children. He was a very sweet guy, even though I can now say with reflective vision that he was corrupting a minor. I never really had any conversations with his wife for she didn't speak any English. She was always very nice to me though.

There were also others quite busy at work in this little donut shop. I'd heard of them before but had never seen one. They were everywhere in that place and every once in awhile, one of them would end up in a donut. Yes, the cockroach situation was very bad. The manager must have had some kind of deal with the Grand Prairie health inspectors because there is no way a legitimate inspector would not have immediately closed that place down witnessing the inhabitants of the back rooms. It was as though they knew to stay out of the front counter area.

The older lady with no teeth who trained me on the cash register was named Blanche Brigg. She was always spiking her coffee with whatever liquid was contained in the little flask she carried in her purse. She also chain-smoked which was pretty cool--especially when it came time to serve a customer. She would simply rest the cigarette in the ashtray while she removed donuts from the display case. Once she had them boxed or bagged, she'd put the cigarette back into her mouth where it dangled as she rang up their purchase. No one ever seemed to mind.

There was another younger woman who worked there named Lynn. I can't remember Lynne's last name. She didn't like me and I didn't like her. I think she had something going on with the store manager although she was married. The manager--the guy who hired me--was young and good-looking and always smelled of Aramis. At that time, I thought he was incredibly sexy. His name was Ruben and, although I've met quite a few Ruben's since then, I can comfortably say he was the first.

Just a few days after I was hired and trained, I was given a store key and my job was to work evenings, clean and lock the store up at night and dispose of any remaining donuts.