Chapter 1


I did it for the money

A confession: I worked in a factory.

Back in 1998, I was between jobs. That's a more fashionable way of saying out of work. Or unemployed. Jobs were few and far between in northwest Connecticut, with one exception: a manufacturer of seating products for the airline industry. In the interest of brevity and diversion, I'll call the company AeroSeat and let that dog lie.

Having had no experience in a factory environment, I entered terra incognita. There was a lot to learn, and much like my Day Three Epiphany at Navy boot camp, it didn't take long to realize that factory work and I weren't going to get along very well.

Long story short is that AeroSeat and I divorced each other just shy of our first anniversary. Reason? Unreconcilable differences. Sound familiar?

Neither bride nor groom cried.


Over the years since that relatively short stint at AeroSeat, I've told a number of tales to selected friends, family, and aquaintances. These tales a-plenty always seemed to at least raise eyebrows, though more often than not commanded hearty laughter.

So I've decided some of these stories are just too funny to let rot somewhere in a dark recesses of my cranium. Thirty years from now I don't want to bore some hapless convalescence home nurse by mumbling them during a mental core dump. She'll have enough work dealing with all of the other kind of "core dumps" of mine!

Here's hoping you find these tales as entertaining as those with whom I've shared them.


N.B. - Like the company name, the names of individuals have been changed for obvious reasons. Suing me will prove to be an effort in futility, so don't even think about it.

... that is unless you enjoy trying to squeeze blood from a rock.