Summertime Rolls

Ep 4: Burgers and Fries!

This Episode took place in 1989 - the summer before my Senior year of high school in Atlanta.

Hi, hello, How are ya? Welcome back!

The fall of 1989 marked the beginning of my Senior year of high school at what is now known as Midtown High in Atlanta. Established in 1872 as a boys' high school, it had long since become coed by the time I started, and was known as Henry Grady High, or simply Grady. It was also known as the Communications magnet school, or MUCH more informally – the druggy high school. This final year of school was a pivotal year in my life, which began in the early summer preceding the start of the school year.

As a student of a Communications magnet school, we discussed national and international current events daily in classes. I was well aware of the air of change, for good or ill, across the globe – far more than most teenagers. The Cold War was about to end, and the Berlin Wall would come down in November of '89. Protests in Tiananmen Square had started. Manuel Noriega was trying to hang onto his dictatorship in Nicaragua. In the US, music was on the precipice of massive change, as De La Soul, Jane's Addiction, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers were gaining popularity, while Bon Jovi and Guns N' Roses were still dominant. The Iran-Contra trial dominated US news. Because my Mom was very politically active, I was accustomed to discussing world topics at home as well as at school.

Though the world suddenly seemed very uncertain to 17-year-old me, I was ready to step out into it as I approached adulthood. I ended my 11th-grade year on a few high notes; my soccer team won the league championship. We went undefeated while I held down the #1 keeper position all season. I had a girlfriend, went to prom, and had a fantastic late 80s mullet and plenty of style. On the other hand, the SAT was not a great experience for me, despite my preparation - I struggled with that kind of test. However, I did well enough to know I was going to get into one of the Universities I had in mind. The summer ahead seemed full of promise.

Unfortunately, summer began with the separation and divorce of my Mom and stepdad, Reuel. An entirely nasty happening between the two, centering on issues over hard drugs and affairs on both their parts. It is a mostly vague memory for me because, by that time in my life, I'd checked out of my home life and was there as infrequently as I could manage. Mom gave Mike and me the command to pack up our stuff and load it on a moving truck one day early in the summer. And within a few hours, I moved from the most stable home I'd known to that point in my life.

Side note: "Stable home" is an entirely wild statement to make, considering what I've already told you about aspects of my life and the fact that I mentioned HARD DRUGS four sentences ago. So, give that statement of stability some real thought.

Jumping back into the story: This event rocked my world and left me unsure, well into the summer, whether I would have to transfer to a new high school – fortunately, we found a way to keep me at my current school by late July. It turns out that my Mom never reported it to the school administration. We relocated from the pleasant neighborhood of Virginia-Highlands to an apartment near Buckhead. Not to the fancy side of Buckhead, though. We absolutely did not have that kind of money. Relatively quickly, we all settled in, and I dived full on into the serious business of enjoying my summer before 12th grade.

I'd begun my search for my first job just before school let out for the summer and had targeted a few places that would be fun. I applied at my neighborhood bookstore, Highland Books, where I was always on the lookout for a new read. I also gave the local skate shop a try, and finally, I dropped off an application at Cosmos Pizza, a local pizza joint where I grabbed a slice at least once a week. All three of these places received far too many applications from my peers at school, so there was virtually no chance that any of them would hire me, which was a huge disappointment. From there, I pivoted to the next neighborhood over, which had a strip mall with fast-food restaurants. It seemed I was doomed to the same first job so many teens had – fast food.

I recall to this day the interview I had for a job flipping burgers and hot dogs. I showed up with my mullet perfectly blow-dried and feathered, while wearing my best acid-washed jeans and a blue-and-white striped polo shirt. Honestly, I was a dead ringer for Steve Harrington from Stranger Things.

I had no idea what to do or say in an interview, while also being incredibly nervous. I'm sure the manager only cared that I had a pulse and could carry on a polite conversation with a customer. I definitely had a pulse and talked too much, so I was in good shape. After a 15-minute discussion, I got the job on the spot and would be working the flat-top grill five days a week.

This job was at a small chain called Sneaky Pete's. Yes, that is the name of the restaurant. Let me paint a picture for you of it in the late 80s: imagine Dairy Queen without ice cream or panache. Also, what a truly horrendous name for a restaurant that specialized in selling tubes and patties of meat. But, at 17 years old, it was my first real job, and I was proud of it.

By the end of my first week, I was cranking out Chicago dogs and cheeseburgers like an absolute pro during the lunch rush. And two nights a week, I'd sit on my butt for the three customers that came in. Eighty percent of the business was generated by the lunch rush, which drew customers from the surrounding business area. People would form a long line that often extended out the door. While that job did not shake my love of burgers, it was a long time before I ate a hot dog again. And I have yet to touch a chili dog since.

Fortunately, my best friend from school, Ted, worked at the TCBY (The Country's Best Yogurt) store next door to Sneaky Pete's in the strip mall. Our other good friend Bill worked at the Blockbuster on the other side of the parking lot. The pseudonyms Bill and Ted come from Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure. Honesty, these two were as close to Bill & Ted as you can get.

Ted had a schedule that was almost identical to mine. We frequently took breaks together and brought each other food when things were slow. Bill's schedule was primarily evenings, so we mainly saw him when we had the closing shift for our stores. I was pretty skilled at this job, and within a month of my start, my boss promoted me to assistant manager and foolishly entrusted me with the store's keys. Honestly, the store had only been open for five months, and the manager had yet to take a break. He seriously needed to get some sleep, and he trusted the first person who worked consistently.

While on break, Ted and I frequently discussed our plans for after high school. Our talks centered on the idea that we'd go through life as the best of friends. We planned to be roommates at the University of Georgia and get our own place in our sophomore year. After we earned our degrees, we'd head out to LA. He was going to work in video production, while I worked as a comic book illustrator. We'd find a cool place to live together and learn to surf. Bill would, of course, join us too. He was planning to be a graphic designer and was already well on his way to earning a spot at the Savannah College of Art and Design, the most prestigious art school in the Southeastern United States.

I remember working one night the week of the 4th of July when we were so slow because most people were out of town. I was working a double and spent the lull between the two not-so-busy periods perched in a booth at Sneaky Pete's with Ted, who was also working a double. We spent our time watching the Wimbledon Championships on the TV in my store. We made a day out of eating cheeseburgers, giant frozen yogurt sundaes, and serving the random customer. We eventually talked Bill into coming earlier to his shift at Blockbuster so that he could hang out with us, too. I think we each made two annoying phone calls to wake him up and get him to come by.

That day, we even traded jobs for thirty minutes, and I'm sure the customer I served at TCBY knew I had no idea what I was doing with frozen yogurt – I'm thinking my uniform from the burger place was a big giveaway. The uniform was fortunately a red polo and hat with the store logo, and jeans, rather than one of the mass fast food chains' utterly humiliating uniforms. Also, the moment my boss stepped out of the store, that hat got turned around to face the back — word to your mother.

The three of us were close, and the time we spent together seemed to last forever. It was also good for us. It was beneficial for me, as I desperately needed some normalcy and structure in my life, not to mention good people who supported me. I'd never met two other guys who were willing to talk about what was troubling them or their dreams. Ted and I had long ago shared the fact that both of our fathers were gay, and I think that was a prime reason our bond was so tight. We did not know a single other kid like us. Bill and I were close because we both loved art and creativity so much, and we frankly loved debating artistic methods. Ted and Bill had been tight since they met in middle school. The three of us were comfortable being absolute weirdos together, who were nowhere near as cool as we thought.

We all shared something more. Trauma. I learned that we'd each been through some tough shit, and recognized in each other the resilience it took to survive that our peers didn't seem to have. Sharing our joy was a key factor in making us feel like we could manage the world. These two dudes represented the first time I felt love for a guy. Not romantic or sexual, but a platonic love. Indeed as person who knew they were queer to some degree, I wondered if it was something more, but I don't think it was. Because I knew I could love men as a potentially queer person, I was able to allow our friendship to transcend the norm of higschoolers. These two were family in a way that my blood relatives were not.

As we rolled into the beginning of the final year of high school, I found out that Ted's Mom had passed suddenly. Ted drifted his way towards graduation, and then faded out of my life by the time I started University in the fall of 1990. His Mom was his everything, and without her, he seemed utterly lost. In my junior year of art school, I ran into him over the holidays while he was visiting his dad. He might have moved to LA, but I'm not entirely sure. He mentioned he was moving back to Atlanta. I'm not sure if he ever did, and I've never been able to find him since that time, despite searching often over the years. There have been many times in my life when I dearly missed the close friendship we once had.

Bill went on to attend the Savannah College of Art and Design, and immediately headed to LA to pursue a career in design. He eventually pivoted to being a full-time artist. I've lost track of him, too. But I do know he also found his queerness, which I suspected but never dared to ask about. I was too worried it might mean I had to answer uncomfortable questions.

By the time Summer was officially over in late September, Mom was struggling to make ends meet, and I learned that there was no money for me to attend University. I knew that from then on, I would need to take care of myself. I worked to acquire grants, loans, and jobs that would enable me to attend Georgia State University, which was far more affordable than the University of Georgia. The gut punch was getting accepted to UGA and being offered nowhere near enough financial support to make that dream come true. That was a tough day, as it ended any sense I had that things would work themselves out. It also taught me a valuable lesson in agency. The world isn't handed to you unless you are one of the precious few with wealth. The path you follow is the one you make as you travel it.

For three amazing years, I'd found real family, and lost them when life hit all three of us hard between the summer of 1989 and the fall of 1990. They were my first chosen family, and there will always be a place in my heart for both of them.

Talk to you soon
Erica

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