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When I applied for a job at the sawmill the previous summer, I could tell right away, the owner was an #^&#^&#^&#^&#^&#^&#^&. "Whats with the #^&#^&#^&#^&ing long hair?" he asked. "Thats the style now I said". "Well you better keep it covered when you show up for work here" he said.
It was 11 miles from home to the sawmill and hitchhiking and walking were my only options so I would be a little late some mornings. There was a guy working in the shop, separate from the sawmill, that lived near me.
He knew I worked there too, but would drive past me on his way in. I approached him one day and offered to pay for gas if he could give me a ride. "No" was all he said. I'm starting to realize no one is required to help me, and I have to find my own way. But with a forty hour week paycheck of $44 it was not going to be easy.
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