I think I was 13 or 14 when I was given a job that I quickly grew to hate. My father had been going to the barber at a small shop near the corner of Sepulveda and Center and one day the barber told him that they were looking for someone to sweep and clean the shop, water and maintain the landscaping for the shopping center that housed the barber shop and shine shoes for the occasional customer. Since I was between jobs and needed to make some money, (or so Dad told me…) I agreed to the job. What a mistake! The only part of the job that I enjoyed was the landscaping and I would try to stay outside as long as I could, watering and trimming. But then, one of the barbers would call me to come inside and sweep the accumulation of hair from the floor or shine someone’s shoes. I think I lasted there about 3 weeks. At that age, I would rather face the parental nagging than sweep or shine shoes.
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