When I was eleven years old I started working for a guy named Dick Sloop. Dick owned the Bon Ton Grill in North Elkin and I was one of his curb hops. You don't see many curb hops today, except maybe at The Sonic or some such place. I'm here to tell you, I didn't wear roller skates or short shorts.
Curb hopping back in the fifties and sixties consisted of waiting until someone drove up and blew his or her horn. Then the curb hop would go out, take the order, and, when the order was ready, the hop would carry it out to the car. Later, after another blast of the horn, we'd go back out, remove the tray from the window and dispose of the trash. It was interesting work. I earned fifty cents an hour plus tips.
Dick was a real character. I have no idea how old he was, but he seem ancient. In his younger days, Dick had been a pharmacist in Washington, D.C. He had also been a banjo player in a Dixieland band. Dick loved to whistle and sometimes he would be working in the basement and his whistling could be heard out on the curb. He was partial to Bobby Vinton's "Blue Velvet," and Dean Martin's "Strangers in the Night." Often, while cooking, he could be heard singing what could only be called vulgar drinking songs from the early twentieth century. I still recall some of the lyrics, but I won't state them here.
In addition to hopping curb, I also worked inside. I'd wait and bus tables, handle the cash register, and eventually earned seventy-five cents an hour as a short order cook. Things cost less then. A T-bone steak plate (with salad, potato and iced tea) went for $1.25. Hot dogs for fifteen cents. I've served up many a hamburger for a quarter each…a nickel more bought a cheeseburger.
Dick was a good man. He was funny – sometimes intentionally, sometimes accidentally. Whenever someone would ask "How much is your chewing gum?" Dick would answer "A nickel a pack or three for a quarter!" Most people would laugh. A few times someone would drop a quarter on the counter and take three packs of gum. We never stopped them.
There's no real narrative here. Just a memory. I can't remember all the nights I left the Bon Ton after midnight and walked home. Dick would still be there, doing something.
I worked for Dick Sloop until I finished eleventh grade. I bet I've carried 50,000 trays. The highest single tip I ever got was fifty cents. That was from my first grade school teacher and her boyfriend. They felt sorry for me.
It's funny. Even on my nights off I'd hang out at the Bon Ton…sometimes handling the register in a rush. If I had a date, I'd take her there. I learned a lot…and on the curb one could see a lot. I met a lot of people. I wonder if they ever remember the Bon Ton?
The Boys and Me
