I had moved to Madison, TN. to start a "new life" and get my head on straight. An older sister and her husband had welcomed me into their home until I could find a place of my own. And I did that within a couple of months. The years between 1970 and mid 1973, were, ummmm....interesting.
A story for another time. Possibly...
Why this memory is front and center of my thinking this early a.m. is curious to me. I had awaken from a dream of impossible circumstances that I had made it through. Mostly unscathed. Along a fence line were a few rows of strong, very tall trees and saplings. I was in a car that would by no means possible be allowed through them. They grew close together making it a challenge to even walk between them. But I knew I must get through the impossible.
Thinking about this dream, I'm still in awe of how the trees gave way to me. It had been a challenge I accepted and it was as if the trees felt my determination and so granted me access to where I was headed. They simply leaned over to make way when the car made first contact.
There's a story of excellence in there...
Time spent in Tennessee had to come to an end, however. I had stepped into a world I didn't belong in and soon found I was in over my head. The trees in the dream??? One would have to know from whence I came, to fully understand just how desperate I had become. Much like my thoughts of the "how can I get through this" in the dream.
The letter I had penned, ended with, "Please help me!" A letter written to the sister back home I could always count on to be there for me.
Side Note: I'm pretty sure any of my siblings would have responded to that cry for help, should I have asked. However, coming from the large family that I did, there was only one, close in age, that I leaned on, and fully knew, during the growing years. She was the one making sure I didn't die.
Beck had came. Along with a brother and sister-in-law. Rush and Linda. They flew out from Oklahoma, to Tennessee, to rescue a little lost lamb. I am the "baby" of the family and I think may have been the most spoiled. At least that's what I've been told. Way too many times...
There are too many stories to tell of this trip to, and from, to lay out here. This post is about an event that took place once I returned to Miami, Oklahoma. With no job promise (another story to tell), for when I arrived back home, I took a job doing what I had done for the better part of my stay in Tennessee. Cocktail waitressing. It's where the real money was. Get 'em drunk and they will leave a wad of cash as a tip for serving them. I don't think I ever thought about what might happen to them after leaving the establishment. As far as I was concerned, it would be of their own making. Yep. I was a jewel back then.
It was what was suppose to be my 3rd night working, when everything went down. I hadn't liked the place from the first night there and by the second night had made my decision to leave. I had become accustomed to taking home everything I had made in a nights time of serving those who were out for what they perceived to be a good time. But, this place...well, they thought it would be great having the servers SHARE their tips with all the crew. Because, hey! We were a team! Right? 🙄 I think we all know how that works in an environment of this sort.
You guessed it. Of course, the new girl gets to do most of the work, especially knowing where she came from and what she was capable of. They thought it great fun to watch while they stood at the bar and snickered. Talk about a party pooper. This new girl wasn't about to let that happen.
By the end of the second night of a very heavy shift, I had made my decision this was not the place for me. I had raked in a LOT of money working my booty off, while the others served only a table or two the whole night. They did help clean up my tables, however. Good call, so more could be seated and let the bimbo make their earnings for the night.
When my tips had been laid out on the bar and divided up, I was one angry girl. I said, "How is this even close to being right? Enjoy the fruits of my labor," and left. Never to go back. Taking from the one who makes the money, to give to those who do nothing, sounds a little familiar, don't you think? I'll just leave that right here...
The very next evening, police raided the establishment. ALL the workers were hauled off to jail. 🤣🤣🤣❤️. I don't remember the why, but I do remember the consequences..
I think I missed a bullet with the decision made the previous night. When reading it in the Miami News Record, our local newspaper, I was at first shocked, then very amused. No need explaining why.
And that is the story of how I escaped being a jail bird. Interesting...don't you think? LOL
As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.
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