The following is an excerpt from my book “Raised on the Radio” (which I’m still tinkering with) It being Labor Day weekend I thought to share some memories of my days as a slider seller.
In 1977 at age sixteen, I began working part time in nearby Lombard at White Castle, home of the greasy bite sized ‘sliders.’ Most of my friends had similar jobs which were easy for teens to find. Back then, it wasn’t IF you were going to work, it was WHERE. My pals Bobbo Ciciora and Todd Beja ended up working with me at the castle for a time. My pay started at $3.30 an hour and considering the minimum wage at that time was $2.30 an hour, it was a decent job. This was 1977 when a movie ticket would cost no more than $2.50 and gasoline was around fifty cents a gallon. White Castle took good care of their employees with even part timers getting a week’s paid vacation after working there a year. Working on holidays like Thanksgiving, New Year’s Day and Easter we earned double time pay.
When Todd Beja moved on to a different White Castle in nearby Villa Park, a box of frozen White Castle burgers and a couple boxes of buns mysteriously fell into his car one night. Todd would end up hosting a late spring “Slider Party” at his parents house during our senior year of high school. It was a raging night of food, beer and fun!
I saw some unusual things while working at that fast food joint. One weekday afternoon a wedding reception took place in the White Castle dining room. About thirty people bounced in, the bride in her gown, groom in his suit and everyone else dressed like they just came from church. They even brought in a wedding cake and champagne. The bride told us she dared her man to have the reception at White Castle and he went with it. She kept telling her new husband, “I’ll never marry you again.” We burger makers even posed in some of the photos with the wedding party. I sometimes wonder if that couple is still married today, probably not.
Working the occasional weekend late hours of 11 pm til 7 am, I got a glimpse of what adult party life was like. White Castle was open 24/7 and the bars would stop serving booze by 2:00 a.m. so we’d have lines out the door til about 4 a.m. I mean just ask Harold & Kumar about the joys of late night castle burgers when you’re high or liquored up. Working those graveyard shifts exposed me to a heavy stream of drinkers and stoners. Customers’ slurred words and laughing loud at just about anything said was the norm for those hours. Some of these sloshed folks were pretty funny and while serving their food we used to take notice of who came through our doors with the worst cases of bloodshot eyes. Cleaning the men’s restroom on that shift was the worst. Drunks pissed in the sink, on the floor, walls, toilet paper roll and every once in while they even managed to squirt a little in the toilet bowl.
I can’t count how many times I went to take garbage out to the parking lot dumpsters in the middle of the night and found drunken Castle patrons passed out in their idling cars. They usually had a door open with their bagged food still sitting on the car hood or roof. I would reach in, turn off the ignition and let the pooped party animals sleep it off. They’d later wake up to cold burgers and fries which may have been a great hangover cure.
In the summer of 1979, I was planning to quit White Castle in August because full time college classes were coming. However, I was shown the door a couple weeks early. On a slow overnight shift, a man was giving me his order a bit quick and I told him to slow down so I could get things right. He raised his voice to me and was in as crabby a mood as I was. I looked the guy in the eye and being the stupid 18 year old I was said, “If you ever yell at me like that again, I’ll knock you on your ass.” Well he screamed for my boss to come out and deal with this hassle. The night manager was given the story of what went down, I admitted to my part and was sent home for the night. Two days later I was summoned to meet with the castle supervisor to be let go. My first firing. Lesson learned, the customer, even a jerk customer, is ALWAYS right.
Three years later, a similar customer/fast food employee confrontation played out on the big screen in “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.” Judge Reinhold played the role of me as he told his irritated customer, “Mr., if you don’t shut up I’m gonna kick 100 percent of your ass!” Cameron Crowe wrote the ‘Fast Times’ book and screenplay and it was almost as if he was in White Castle with me that night back in 1979.
NEXT BLOG: My experience on 9/11.