Despite the fact that I’m getting older, I still have a pretty good memory. One day last month when walking home from the corner of happy and healthy — that’s the Walgreens in Covington, Ky. — I heard someone say, “Hello, Larry.”
We had the light, but we were also in the middle of the street. I stared at the man for a few seconds before saying, “Al?”
“You remember!” he said. “You live over here?”
“Yes,” I replied. “We’re in the middle of the intersection, so I can’t — ”
“I know,” Al said smiling. “I live here too now. I’ll run into you again.”
With that said, we shook hands and he continued right and I continued left. As I walked, I started thinking about how long it had been since I’d last seen Al. It had been over 38 years.
We both worked for an office supply store in downtown Cincinnati. I started there in 1973 and Al a couple years later. I worked in the accounting department and Al was the delivery guy — the van driver. He delivered office supplies to various customers all over downtown. Seeing Al crossing the street in Covington brought back a memory I hadn’t thought of in decades.
This was in the mid 1970s and that van Al was driving had the company’s name plastered all over it. The deal with Al was he could take the van home with him after work, but it was to and from work only. It wasn’t to be used as his personal vehicle. I remember this clearly as the president of the office supply store had gotten on Al’s ass about using the van outside of work. Al had complained to be about this and told me, “I’ll do what I damn well please.”
Now back in the 1970s, downtown Cincinnati had a number of movie theatres and the Times Towne Theatre, located on E. Sixth Street, was probably the best of all of them. One night in the spring of 1975, a friend and I decided to see a 7:30 p.m. showing of The Return of the Pink Panther starring Peter Sellers. My friend, Patricia, had already seen it but liked it so much; she wanted me to see it with her. She lived in Clifton and on one Friday night, I picked her up and we headed downtown.
The movie was very funny and after it was over, we laughed and talked about it as we headed to the parking lot where my car was parked.
There used to be a bar on E. Sixth Street that was close to the Times Towne Theatre. I can’t remember the name of it, but I do remember the van parked in front of it on that cool, spring evening. It was the van owned by the office supply store.
This was around 9:30 at night. Clearly Al was indeed doing what he damned well pleased. No doubt he was inside that bar drinking and no doubt he had used the van to get there.
Patricia and I stood there for a minute looking at the van. I remembered I had a few business cards of the owner of the office supply store in my wallet. I sometimes needed them to pass out to salesmen when they would come around trying to sell the owner merchandise and when he wasn’t available.
I reached into my wallet and pulled out one of those business cards. “Do you have a pen?” I asked Patricia. She looked through her purse and found a Bic. She handed it to me. Leaning over on the hood of the van, I turned the business card over and on the back of it, in big black letters, I wrote, “You’re fired!” I then placed the business card, topside up, under the windshield wiper on the driver’s side of the van.
Patricia and I laughed and continued our walk to my car. I had forgotten all about this little joke I had played on Al and didn’t even think about it when I returned to work on Monday morning. I was standing in the front of the store smoking a cigarette (you could do that back then) when Al opened the door to the store with a long look on this face. He didn’t say a word to me — just headed toward the back of the store where the owner had his office. Al closed the door to it.
Al was in there with the owner for about half an hour. When the door opened and Al and the owner came out, I heard the owner say, “This was a warning to you. Don’t do it again or you will be fired.”
Later that day, Al told me what had happened. He was perplexed as to how the owner of the store knew that the van would be parked in front of that bar on E. Sixth Street, Friday night at 9:30. Apparently the owner of the store decided to play dumb and let Al think he had caught him.
This little joke happened almost 40 years ago. I never did set Al straight on this and now here he is living in Covington just like me.
Seeing Al is something I’m going to have to get used to. Early this week, I was sitting on the bus bench in front of the Dollar Tree Store when Al walked by. We could only chew the fat for a minute or two as he had to meet his wife up at the Kroger store on Madison Avenue. He asked me if he could get my phone number.
I reached into my wallet and handed him a business card which has my phone number on it. I thought about writing “You’re fired!” on the back of it, but didn’t have a pen with me.
This article appears in Oct 1-7, 2014.