Bosses

Fifteen years apart
And in two different cities
I worked for two very different men
I did different
But menial work
For the both of them
One, the older of the two
Who we all called Mr D
Worked next to me
Fourteen hours a day
In a basement kitchen
And he was big, loud, busy,
Stressed out and friendly
Life was all about hard work
Running a business
And being your own man
I was invited to accompany him
Unpaid and for my own enlightenment
On more than one occasion
To the Billingsgate market
In London
To watch him select the fish
And haggle prices
We went there at four a.m.
And when all the deals were made
We went to the restaurant in Soho
And got ready to meet the others
And start cutting and cleaning fish

There were Dover sole
Haddock
Halibut
Plaice
Salmon
And a thousand potatoes
To peal and cut
There was borscht to make
Gefiltafish to make
Oil to heat
Dishes to clean
Floors and tables to clean
Backbreaking boxes of fish
Again and again to lift and carry
Tons of ice to keep it all cold
It was hard work
And long hours
Split shifts
Breaks in the afternoon
The others would sleep under the tables
In the kitchen
Waiting to begin all over again
Waiting for the evening shift
I would wander Soho
Record shops
Book shops
Art galleries
Parks
Churches
And people to watch
And wonder about
Tourists
Workers, Idlers Losers, Winners, and me

Come the evening shift
The movie stars
And other show-biz riffraff
Would come for the
Kosher fish delights
And we would fry
And steam
And grill
And boil
And sweat
Till well after ten p.m.
And Mr D
Was right there with us
He was a big man
And he loved to sing
And yell
And teach
Make sure that everything
Was done just the way
He liked it
He selected the perfect fish
The perfect potatoes
He cut without waste
He measured precisely
And he paid low wages
But his people were loyal
And so was he

One of the first things
I noticed about him
Was that he had no ass
No roundness to it
It didn’t stick out at the back
Now I know that you
Might wonder about
That observation
But when you spend hours bending
And lifting huge crates
Of iced-down fish
You get a lot of opportunities
To see the other guys
From very unique angles
My back problems first
Manifested there
And plague me to this day
Twenty years later
About a year after I started there
One of the Spanish waitresses
Asked me
What happened to your ass?
You used to have an ass
When you started working here
Well Mr D had been
Working his ass off
All of his life
And now..it seemed
So was I

My mother came to visit me
During the time I worked
For Mr D
I brought her to the restaurant
For lunch one day
And Mr D insisted
That we have Dover Sole
And fine white wine
And he and my mother talked
About the blitz
And about the past
And a little bit about me
And he wouldn’t let me pay
I liked that man
I had been nothing but poor
All my life
And that still hasn’t changed
But I do admire people
Who by strength of character
And will
And work
Make their way in life
And still manage to be happy
Even through stress and pressure
They succeed and
Still maintain their humanity
He was that kind of a man
And I could tell he was a fighter
Who had been knocked down
More than once
And got back up

Fifteen years later
I was working at a hotel
On the south coast
Night porter
10:00 p.m. to 8 a.m.
Checking people in
Cleaning
Cooking
Waiting
And reading in the wee hours
There were drunks
Sleep-walkers
Hookers
Families
Vomiters in toilets
And I took care of them all
I am good with people
The pay was low
And I had a problem
Trying to sleep during the day
I would get home
And be in bed by 9 a.m.
And be wide-awake at noon
I tried going to the pub to kill time
But after missing work
Once or twice
I stopped that
And I went and got a part-time job
Cleaning toilets for a big company
That had a big office building
In the heart of town
Just for something to do

I would start work there
At 5 p.m.
And work till 9 p.m.
Then hurry to the room I rented
Change clothes
And head for the hotel
Most of the office workers
Would be finished at 5 p.m.
So I had the toilets
Pretty much to myself
The acoustics were great
So I sang a lot
And cleaned
It was peaceful work
It didn’t bother me
That I was at the bottom
Of the ladder…
I wasn’t climbing anyway
Most of the people
That I met were friendly
And I talked to everyone
I laughed and sang
And listened
And cleaned
And nobody bothered me
I did my job
And came and went
Happy

One day I was told
To go to the office
My bosses wanted a word with me
My department head and my supervisor
Were waiting for me
They closed the door behind me
And told me that I had been seen
Talking to the Chairman
And they wanted to know
What we were talking about
I told them that I couldn’t say
What was said
Because I had no idea
Who they were talking about
But I told them that if they pointed him out
I would try to remember
They were worried
I was amused
I talked to everyone
About everything
But never about work
Who wants to talk about
Cleaning toilets?
Piss on the floor
Shit on the seats and walls
Dried snot on the doors
Blocked toilets
Water stains on the mirrors
Whisky bottles in the bins
Condoms in the bins
Feminine hygiene… or the lack of it
It might be work
It might be interesting
But it isn’t something
That elevates the spirit
Everyone enters a toilet
In their own way
Some just come in and ignore you
Make a mess where you just cleaned
And leave without grace
Others come in
And carry on the last conversation
As if time had not intervened
Most were cheerful
Some were functional
Everyone was glad to be there
Some asked why I always seemed
So happy
Why I was always singing
I refrained from commenting
On the power of music
To raise you above all circumstance
so
I would tell them
That life was just too short
Not to
When the Chairman
Was finally pointed out to me
I recognised him
As someone I had spoken with a few times
He would enter the toilets politely
Ask if I minded if he came in
I would smile and say
Mi casa es su casa
Then we would talk about
Where he had spent his holiday
Or the places I had travelled
Or something else….
A million miles from work
Bosses and me…like peas in a pod