I moved here in December, 1989, with no job to come to. The economy was a bit different then. It was easier to find employment in the go-go days of pre-Gulf War America. After a few interviews, and an experience with a fly by night scam of a networking service, I eventually landed a part time position as a bank teller for Bank One, who are now known as Chase.
The work was alright. I did not mind the cash handling, the place I worked on campus was certainly busy, with a young but diverse clientele.
Bank One, or Chase, are no longer in that location on campus, but it still is a bank.
It may have been the most stable position I have ever worked. Had I been a bit more patient I would have had full time hours, but I left here after two months to take a full time job in a wine shop.
The owners just took over the wine shop in the French Market, a once bustling building of food stands and quaint craft shops. I interviewed for the position as manager, and somehow got it. I was not expecting owners who had no clue what to purchase. They bought about 100 cases of crappy beer for a Kentucky Derby party that they thought their customers would embrace. They were mistaken. A couple of a accountants who thought they could make a small fortune in the business.
I admit my attitude was not great. The French Market was just beginning to die. Their rent was outrageous and business was dead. I was let go a couple of months in. The first, and only time I have been fired from a job.
Not entirely sure what happened in the years after. The owners mentioned moving the business a couple of times, but it never happened. Eventually they closed for good, and the French Market was torn down. I ran into one of the owners in a bank a few years later. I said hello. He walked right past me without a word.
By some miracle I found work a couple of weeks later, at a grocery store in Muirfield Village. A golf based community just north of Dublin, Ohio. It was a bit of a hike my long suffering wife tolerated somehow as I did not drive.
The work was not impressive. The owner put a lot of investment in the Memorial Tournament, which like many years, was a rain out. I was manager on duty most evenings and tried to keep myself busy in an independent grocery store that could not compete with Kroger. Once, I bagged the owner of Wendy's, Dave Thomas', groceries. That was the high point, along with finding out Jim Henson died on my wife's birthday. Not a high point, but I remember when and where I was. It was also the first time I experienced hail. There was a massive storm and I was in the storeroom when I heard loud banging on the roof. I looked out the back door and pebble sized ice was falling from the sky. It was on my day off, that I got a phone call telling me the store had shut down.
It was hard to find the location of this place again. Had not been up here in over 21 years. I think this is where it was, and what it has become. I saw the store manager, the guy who hired me, one more time, in the wine shop I was working at after the owner died. He was vulturing around, thinking he could by the place. He did not.
Hell of an introduction to a new city, three jobs in five months. I had no confidence and little trust. Ended up out of work for the month of June, sitting on the couch, drinking Stroh's beer while watching the World Cup in Spanish.
After the fourth of July, my employment situation would change, for the crazy.
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