Memories of Verlin Vaughn

My dad called to tell me Verlin Vaughn died; he was 73.

Verlin Vaughn was my first boss in a "city job." I had worked plowing, working pigs, working sheep, hauling hay, or any other job you find to do in the country but this was different. This job at a local steakhouse required you to wear dress pants, a white shirt, dress shoes, and to use a time clock... all of that so you could bus tables and wash dishes!

Verlin rarely smiled. My dad could get him to chuckle from time to time, but never an employee. I guess I did see him give one of those "oh please dear Lord, shoot me now as I am in the midst of pubescent idiots who are holding my livlihood in their grimy little paws" smiles of chagrin from time to time, but nothing genuine. Since he and my dad were friends, he really kept a close watch on my brothers and I utilizing the threat of "I don't think your dad will appreciate that sort of activity." It worked because we would always avoid having dad find out by conforming to Verlin's demands.

Under Verlin's watchful eye, I did experience so many firsts!

I received my first paycheck where taxes were taken out for the guv'ment.

I experienced my first staff meeting where I watched Sharon, a hostess who was well endowed, hold a glass of ice tea between her breasts so she could sip her tea through a straw while eating and never have to reach for her glass. It answered a lot of my "I wonder why she always has a date questions..."

I received my first french kiss at work. Cheryl nailed me between the swinging doors. Talk about being flummoxed. I almost bussed a table where people were still eating.

I watched my first fist fight among employees. Nothing worse than two sweaty cooks trying to pound each other while maintaining their footing on a wet floor.

I had my first lesson about hopes being crushed. The irresistible Cheryl, gorgeous french kissing creature that she was, informed me later she was just wanting to have some fun... nothing serious was intended. I probably had my first negative thoughts about women during this time too.

But most of all, I experienced the first taste of feeling free. My hard work produced my own money for me to purchase my first car, my own clothes (no more hand me downs!), and enabled me to take my girlfriends on dates. Life was pretty sweet.

I think all steakhouses in America today should pause for a few moments of silence today before they begin their slopping of those delictible cardiac crashing cuts of meat in honor of Verlin Vaughn.

So long Verlin, wherever you are. Oh, and now that you are gone and can't tell my dad on me, I want to confess that I was the one who knocked the time clock off the wall and broke it. Sharon was walking by at the time with this glass of iced tea...