Free Wheeling
Memoir, from a photo prompt (Thank you, Sharron Bassano)
We sailed through the mailroom, presses running above us, rattling the ceiling. We were making our own noise. A terrified scream, as I gripped the steering handle of the “hand dolly” (a manual forklift), Cyndy and I, on the lunch break…mailroom empty, except for a few old timers, watching the press lines, and laughing at us, as we flew by. Cyndy behind me, on the forks, and me in front, on the forks, as well. We were riding this hunk of steel on wheels, like a scooter, faster and faster. The cement floor was relatively smooth, and this thing had no brakes.
If the foremen, one of whom was my husband, had seen us, I don’t know for sure, if we would have kept our jobs. A safety violation, at the very least. But we were two pre-menopausal women, and this was fun…even though I was the one screaming. I was trying to control the steering, and it was a little wobbly. It was a little riskier than putting confetti in the papers, as they went down the insert machine, on New Year’s Eve (which we had done, once).
I have a facial feature that my Grandmother used to comment on, “Dimple in chin, Devil within.” And I suppose she may have been right. I honestly don’t know how I survived my youth, and you would think, that at 35 years old, I would have given up my shenanigans. Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t.
OH!! Sharon!! This is hilarious!! Never stop laughing that beautiful, contagious laugh and always find the fun in life!! HUGS!
So sorry for the girl who does not keep her childhood shenanigans alive into adulthood and even old age😉