Here is this weekend’s Trifecta Writing Challenge:
“ We want a real account of a period in your life that can be clearly identified by (wait for it) the number three.”
How I Managed to Stick My Finger Up Steve McQueen’s Nose
When I was 17, I got a job working at The Iceburg Drive-in, a family-owned hamburger stand. Everything was rather make shift and, in the hot weather, we had a lot of trouble keeping flies from coming in.
There was a window in the front where people would walk up and place their orders.
To complete a transaction without flies getting inside, you had to push the screen open from the inside, take the person’s money and then quickly reach outside and curl your hand up and around the outside wood base of the screen to pull it back down again –a task we performed all day long.
Now I know it’s unbelievable but one of our regular customers was a guy who looked exactly like Steve McQueen. Naturally whenever we would see him coming, we girls would practically shove each other out of the way to get to be the one who took his order.
The first two times I was too slow and someone else beat me to the punch. But the third time Steve McQueen showed up I was ready, and positioned myself at the window with pad and pencil at the ready.
I carefully wrote down deluxe hamburger, side of fries and large Coke in my best handwriting, just in case he might have been impressed with that kind of thing, you know.
Then I opened the screen, took his money, made change and handed it back to him, imagining all the while there was a one in a million chance he might even be the actual real Steve McQueen!
But when I reached out to curl my hand around the base of the screen to close it, I accidentally, somehow – and god only knows how – managed to stick my finger up Steve McQueen’s nose!
It all happened so fast. We were both utterly stunned.
After that, whenever Steve McQueen showed up, and the girls would jockey for positon at the front window, I would quickly maneuver myself to the back room.
How it happened only God nose!
Until next time . . . I love you