Kerens.Com - My Fantastic Story of a Slot Machine

It was a well known fact in my family that my dad had a lot of different jobs in his life.

A particular one stood out in my memory all my life; probably because it included the counting of money. My dad went to work as a waiter at a place called the Sky View Supper Club in Dallas when I was six. He wore a tuxedo with a satin stripe down the side of his pants; you might know I’d remember that detail. Lol. I remember that he really looked spiffy…with his black hair and dark olive skin tone. There was a place to dance on the roof; open air, with a short retaining wall around it all. He got a lot of tips, and came home with heaps of coins in his pockets. He would pour them all out on the table and he and I would roll them with papers. I was in “hog heaven“, to use a Southern term, having so much money roll through my fingers. I had never before had the opportunity for such a good time, and had never seen that much money at one time! Just me and my dad; I loved that. We were buddies. Back in the day, tips were in coin form usually, as no one tipped big as they do now. There were very few bills. Mother and I rode over there one time on the streetcar to meet daddy as he was getting off work.

This story swings in an entirely different direction from here. Not so unusual with my writing style, but I usually don’t announce the change. lol. The bottom line of it all is that mother never believed any of my stories. I admit that this one was a bit unbelievable… a real doozie; but still, I kept telling her, and she kept scolding me for making up such an unlikely tale. Who knew then that this tale would wind up being a Foxtale someday and a short chapter in my first book, “My Bottom Drawer”. I have a publisher, a publicist, and a right hand-man to guide me along. I won’t be doing the book signing talks, as I am in a wheel-chair, and am still a bit humiliated by it all. About the time I decide about that one thing for sure, I picture myself standing behind a table piled with books in a popular bookstore, (DID I SAY STANDING?) then sitting down in the wheelchair for the duration. In can stand while holding on to something for thirty to forty seconds. That makes me appear to be less helpless. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me, or think of me as “Less Than“.

He finally quit that job because he was gone from home every night, and didn’t get to be with us as much as he wanted. He then, went to work at a large restaurant on the other side of Dallas. Mother wanted to go over there and eat one time, so we rode a streetcar there as we always did, having only one car then, and that, in itself’ was fun enough for me. Yessireeee. Bob!

Daddy liked to be the center of attention, so he showed me off by introducing me to all his pals there. He could only project himself forward when having a prop. I was the prop then. That way, the attention was diverted somewhat away from him, and onto another focal point. In other words, he was very shy! They made a big fuss over me, and so daddy took me behind a split curtain that was behind the counter to let me meet more of his friends. Not too far into the back room was a slot machine, just as sure as shootin‘, there was! Daddy let me pull the handle of the one arm bandit a lot of times. I enjoyed watching all the fruit fly by. Daddy explained to me that the object was to get three fruits alike. I liked the cherries best. I wanted to keep playing with the machine, but mother was getting restless sitting by herself, and the fun had to come to a halt, but not before daddy leaned down and emphatically said, “Do not tell your mother about this machine!” I told him then that I wouldn’t, but of course, in time I did. I just couldn’t keep a secret like that….now could I? Some may have been able to resist that temptation, but I wasn’t one of those. You wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere around at the time because of mother’s reaction. She told me she’d use a keen switch off our bush outside, and switch me until I did a little dance like I always did when she used a switch….if I ever told another far-fetched story like that again, so I didn’t! I had never seen a slot machine at that time, so how did I describe it so vividly down to the last detail? It’s the same question I asked myself over and over.

Years passed, and I continued to tell it like it was in my little world. Holding back to a degree because of mother’s reaction. I’m sure I reported plenty of things she didn’t believe in the time between age seven and sixteen, when the big granddaddy of an incident occurred, but they don’t stand out in my memory just now.

Don’t get me wrong, please! I loved my mother as much as any daughter could ever love her mother; it’s just that I challenged her Big Time with my world of tales. As I often say, “Poor Mommy!” She just wasn’t up to having a daughter like me. Two years before she passed away, we had a long, fun-filled talk about my childhood, and how I wore her slap dab out answering questions. She finally said she started making things up, just telling me anything to get me to be quiet. She said that my over-inquisitive mind wore her down to a frazzle, and got on her last nerve. I see that!

I‘ve long since forgiven my mother for any differences we ever had…and that was the main one. My first book “My Bottom Drawer” is dedicated to her, as I was never able to bridge that tiny gap we seemed to have. It’s the only tribute I have in my power to give her, by saying, “Sorry, mother.” I wish she had lived long enough to read the book of tales that is being prepared as I write. I can just picture her beautiful, soft smile. I’m sure that in Heaven, there is a very different attitude about virtually everything. At least, that is what I believe.

Read another FOXTALE that continues and tells The Rest Of The Story. It’s the best part of the two. It’s where the real action takes place.

‘Til Next Time
Blessings

Sandra Simmons Fox
aukey@sbcglobal.com


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