The Exciting Conclusion!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI
For the next few days, I made it a point to display my wedding ring in a awkwardly obvious way in front of JT. I avoided all eye contact. I talked about the kids at home and my happy family. None of it seemed to slow her down at all. My salvation came when a new employee was hired. He looked like he could have been JT’s twin. Same haircut and everything. It was love at first sight. After that, she paid me no attention whatsoever.

JT wasn’t the only colorful character that I worked with. There was also a fellow named Jeremiah. His daddy was a Baptist preacher. But when Jeremiah said “baptist preacher”, somehow it sounded like a curse word. He had a lot against baptist preachers. And English teachers. And anyone from Mexico. And people from the North. And rich people (he wasn’t too fond of poor people either). Politicians, the elderly, teenagers, lawyers, doctors, news reporters and anyone who worked behind a desk were on his bad side too. All of this he told me in the first 10 minutes of meeting him.

Jeremiah was about 5ft 2in tall. He had long curly hair down to his shoulders. He had a scar on his left cheek with a matching scar on the right. (Once he pointed to the scar and said, “This is where I got shot for the first time. Right through the mouth. I took care of him, though.) He had a lazy eye that never rested. It wandered around as he talked, as though it had it’s own will. Jeremiah is what I like to call a prepneck (preppy + redneck). He wore pressed Levi’s that were too tight, button-up shirts, and Timberland boots. He had rings on both hands and two gold chains around his neck. His shirt was always unbuttoned just enough to show them off. He always smelled like Stetson cologne and he drove a 1980’s TransAm. White/bondo with red interior. A black garter belt hung from the rear-view mirror.

Jeremiah and I were filtering glue together. (it’s a real bonding experience) Jeremiah enjoyed talking a lot. He especially enjoyed it when the person he was talking to didn’t interrupt with annoying attempts at a two-way conversation.

Where you live at, Ben?

Fuquay-Varina

No way! You know Derrick?

Don’t think so.

He lives in Fuquay. Good buddy of mine. Haven’t seen him in years. Sure you don’t know him? He drives a Camaro.

Hmmm. I don’t think I kno–

Good ole Derrick. We used to paaarrrr-taaayyy, boy! Get us some Budwisers and a couple girls and it was OOOOnnnnnn! Yeah! We’d get in the TransAm and spin ALL OVER the Food Lion parkin lot, man! That’s what I’M talkin about! Yeah!

Sounds like a lo–

Derrick had this birthmark on his butt that looked like the number 8 on Dale Earnhardt’s race car. So he went and got “Dale” tattooed underneath it. Derrick was cool that way.

He sounds cool.

Well, if you ever run into him, tell him Jeremiah said “NUMBEEERRR 8!!!” He’ll know whatcha mean.

Will do.

We changed the filter and got another open container. The entire time, Jeremiah somehow managed to remain completely clean and dry. It was like watching a ballet dancer. Once we were back to filtering glue, he said,

Yeah, I’m from Sanford. Been married three times. Four times if you count the first one. That was more of a trial run. My 4th daughter from my 2nd marriage has just got herself a new career.

Really? What does she want to do?

Oh, well, she’s been living on the welfare for a while. She was gonna marry some dude from California, but I took care of that. Now she stays with me and my girlfriend. Now let me tell you about my girlfriend… Whooohoooo!! I mean, boy, she–

–so what does your daughter do again?

Oh, she got herself a job down at Charlies.

Charlies?

You never been to Charlies? We’re goin tonight.

What is it?

Best strip bar in Sanford’s what it is!

And your daughter works there?

Yeah. Yeah. (proudly) Her first night on stage is tonight. You’re a Daddy, so you know how it is. You hope and pray your kids turn out good. And then one day their all growed up and makin ya proud. Brings a tear to the old man’s eye, for sure.

I really didn’t know what to say at this point. I had entered some kind of 4th dimension where women looked like men and daddy’s dreamed of the day when their little girls would exceed their expectations by becoming strippers at local bars. I literally had NOTHING to say. No graceful exit from the conversation. No way of bringing this moment back into familiar territory. I was completely lost. Then things got even stranger…

Jeremiah looked out over the factory floor and shouted:

HEY, FELLAS! (loud whistle through the fingers)

JESSE’S DANCIN FOR THE FIRST TIME TONIGHT AT CHARLIE’S! (cheers from the floor) YA’LL COME OUT TONIGHT AND CHECK HER OUT! DRINKS ON ME!

BRING YOUR DOLLAR BILLS, BOYS! BRING YOUR DOLLAR BILLS!

Then the unthinkable…

AND REMEMBER! LOOK BUT DON’T TOUCH! LOOK… BUT DON’T TOUCH.

As he said this, he pointed at each of the guys and winked. Everyone went back to work with a cheer. Some guys came by and gave Jeremiah a friendly pat on the back and a quick congratulations.

Now don’t get the wrong idea here. Jeremiah was not being in any way sexual about his daughter. He was genuinely proud of her. He really and truly was proud.

I worked there for a few more weeks until I finally found a job in IT working for the NC Secretary of State.

My experience at the glue factory taught me three things:

1. no one makes it through life unscathed without a sense of humor
2. work is an honorable thing, no matter how much you get paid
3. Despite the rumors, glue is NOT made from horses.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI

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