I took me a shower and dressed in the brown pants and white shirt the Brown Cow give me to wear in the store. I hear Ms. D. honk, and I left to start work at my new job. Ms. D. introduce me to the store manager. He give me papers to sign, and Ms. D. tole me what all they mean. I sign and we go meet the lady bakery workers. The bakery ain’t just a bakery; it has all kind of food. Salads and roast chickens and vegetables and soups and such. One of the ladies tell me and Ms. D. that I’m gonna be doin’ “prep” for now. She start explaining, but I stop her talking by saying, “You want me chopping the onions and celery and measuring out the ingredients and such as that.” The lady cut a look at Ms. D., then she say I was right. She hand me an apron and point to a chopping table. Ms. D. tap me on the shoulder and kind of nudge me into a little corner. “Quincy,” she say close to my ear. “Try to be friendlier to these women. Don’t interrupt when someone is giving you instructions.”
