The summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college, I worked in the office of a real estate appraiser named Mr. Wingersky and his partner in the business.
Typing, answering phone (though it was mostly pretty quiet), mailing mail, runnings errands, sitting in Mr. W's car when he double-parked it on the street, in case police tried to tow it, or give him a ticket.
One day, reading paper on subway, Jackie Onassis was in the news -- for what, cannot remember. Maybe -- the fight to save Grand Central Station from being demolished. Or -- could have been when she either went to work in publishing, or when she switched to a different publishing house after a controversy.
It was probably one of those. Something interesting.
Somehow I brought up the topic of this news story, to my boss.
He said,
"I saw her once. In a department store. She's not even that good-looking, in person."
("Really? I see you every day and you're a dork.")
But I did not say it out loud.
-30-
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