The Horny Busboy

There was so much energy in me, such belief that one day I’d be handsome and clever and superior and admired, such anticipation when I met new people and new situations.
--a line from 'The Reader' by Bernhard Schlink

Once upon a time there was a seventeen year old teenage boy who worked as a stock boy in the paint department of a major department store known as Montgomery Ward & Co. It was the summer of 1976 and the workload was diminishing as the fall season approached. The young lad would soon be out of a job. He was such a hard worker that his manager arranged a referral for the only other job available at the time. It was in the Montgomery Ward cafeteria as a “busboy”.

As the teen surmised the new position he knew the money would be better than cutting the next door neighbors’ lawn every two or three weeks. He accepted the busboy challenge. The duties of a busboy had peak time obligations Monday through Friday, primarily at lunch and evenings. The evening shift required grueling clean up chores, flawless cleaning of dining tables while roaming along in a bus cart, washing dishes and assisting with customer concerns. It wasn't always pretty.
(a busboy: noun--a restaurant attendant who sets tables and assists waiters and clears away dirty dishes).

The busboy continued his duties throughout his first half of his senior year in high school by working nights and weekends for a full six months. He had silent wishing periods as he wiped off tables for that hopeful sight of a single quarter coin under a coffee cup and/or a dollar bill note under a plate. It happened but it was far and few between. It wasn’t like being a waiter; yet, busboys have much more laborious duties. This horny busboy was a big flirt with the female cashiers. He still remembers their names. There was Arlene, Lucille, Sandy and Corinne. The fun flirtatious memories would linger years later. What was the matter with him at this time? Could a teenage boy of seventeen behave otherwise?

The thirty-five year old Corinne would always use her lip gloss and flirt right back. The boy was too naïve to think anything serious of it. As years passed the boy came to realize that she was actually relaying hints of seduction. Her obsession with the lip gloss and the conversations were too suggestive to ignore.
“When do you turn eighteen?” she asked once again.
“In about five months and I can’t wait. I’ll be able to vote!”
“I bet all of the girls at your school adore you,” Corinne would say as she licked her flavored glossy lips.
“…oh…maybe a few,” he chuckled.
“Did you know that I brush my tongue?”
“No,” he laughed loudly.
“I’m serious. I do it and when I visit the dentist you would not believe the complement he gives me because it is the cleanest tongue he has ever seen,” Corinne snapped back to ridicule the busboys' laughter.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to start brushing my tongue then,” he said.
He would answer any questions she had and explain the detailed thoughts that were always on his mind.

She continued to lick her luscious lips and went on with her storytelling. She told the innocent busboy with a serious, straightforward face how she had been told that she gives amazing oral sex.
He cleared his throat, wanting to say something. Then the busboy laughed, “Really? I can’t say I am surprised. You are trouble,” as he quickly tried to change the subject. He knew she expected a major response but he chose to sweep it under the rug nonchalantly.
“But you still like me, don’t you?” she asked.
He nodded, smiling. It was true. He enjoyed Corinne’s company more than that of any other co-worker. Their paths did not always cross due to the unpredictable cafeteria work scheduling.

As time went by she suggested he come to her apartment one evening (after work). The secretive wishes of Corinne never came to pass. The busboy continued to play his flirtatious games but never felt that ultimate attraction to act on it. Corinne soon shrugged him off as too immature.

The busboys’ identity was me (Michael J Armijo). Did you guess? To this day, I wonder whatever happened to Corinne. I chose the photo above of my eighteen year old cousin, Gus (August) Keller, to accompany this story (he is the right age more-or-less). I hope he won’t mind. I found the photo on his Facebook. He is currently a freshman at Cal State University, Long Beach. I will close on another line from that great book.

‘Behavior…had its own sources…just as my thoughts are my thoughts, and my decisions my decisions.’
--an excerpt from THE READER by Bernhard Schlink
(it inspired the memory of the above story of ‘The Horny Busboy’)