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Daffy Zone…..

Parents had a restaurant for about 8 years. When I was in 4th grade we opened on mother's day. Me and my 2 cousins cleaned tables, washed dishes and kept the floors clean during operating hours. Through the years I did everything EXCEPT wait tables. I even had bathroom cleaning. No biggie as that was an easy day compared to working cattle from 5am to 10pm with about a 1.5 hour lunch starting at 2pm. I'd do nearly anything to work those hours again!!!!!! 14-20 hour work days were fine to me cause that ment i wasn't in daily pain! Building fence sucked! I'd rather get run over by mad cattle and do septic work than build fence every day of the week and twice on Sunday!
 
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Old_Me said:
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This just brought back an old, old memory. Back in about the mid 60's I was stationed at Norfolk NAB. Another 3 guys stationed with me and I decided to rent an apartment up in DC, about an hour+ drive from Norfolk in order to have somewhere to go and party all weekend while off duty but with less competition than the the hundreds of sailors turned loose every weekend. We found a really nice place in SE DC and for about 3 years had a ball. We soon learned there was a place not far from our apartment to go to for music, dancing, liquor, and best of all women. The name of the place was "Someplace Else". Brilliant strategy on somebody's behalf ... if we were not particularly having good time wherever we were, or just wanting a better time, we would ask our date where she'd like to go and she'd typically say "Oh, I don't know ... just someplace else!" Well, there ya' are! Damn, what a great memory!
 
Old_Me said:
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I'm so old I actually remember pumping that gas and washing the windshields.... and checking the oil, and checking air in the tires, and most anything else I was asked to check. Not only old, but stupid enough to pump gas with a lighted cigarette hanging out of my mouth. Knock on wood, I survived even while leaning down real close to the gas filler on the '56 Chevy BellAir to try to see just how the fill line was run ... yeh, with that same cigarette hanging and gas fumes so strong I could see 'em. It's been said that God looks out for babies and fools and I'd been out of diapers for several years. How many remember where the gas fill pipe was on the '56 Chevy?
 
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