Shingle Mill

Shingle MillWhen I was young I worked at a Shingle Mill. My job at the Shingle Mill was to trim and bundle the shingles. The trimmer was basically a giant sharp paper cutter looking thing. I put the shingle into the Machine until it stopped, stomped on the pedal and walla! Perfect shingle.
I would put that perfect shingle into a bin and when the bin got full enough I would pull up the ends of the plastic ties and crimp them together with attached machine then throw it into another big hopper where it waited to be put on the trucks. I did this again and again. It would have been boring except the excitement of keeping the inch long ant from biting you or someone would eventually chap a finger off, something to keep the monotony away.
Because I was young (I had run away from home) I also stayed at the mill. There was a big home and I honestly think the folks who ran it were good people. They never questioned anyone and when I think back on it it seem like many of us were teens. I do not remember many of my co-workers, but I remember one in particular. He was blond , blue eyed and always looked haggard.At the end of each day us workers would file into the house, there was a schedule for showers and then we all ate. We he rarely ate with us and I will be darned if I know if he showered. he was quite the loner
One day though, I had to go to his room for something. I am not sure what it was, but I knocked and he invited me in. I stepped out of normal and into strange. The air was smoky and smelled of burnign plastic….He offered me some…”Hash” he said, fine stuff from somewhere exotic. I turned him down. On his walls were black velvet posters of all kinds with black lights trained on them. There was a small disco ball twirling lights on the the walls and the roofs an there was a lizard in a cage with a red light.He told me it’s name was Hooker.
He told to me something about how aliens have implanted our brains with the ability to have sex and because of that we could say no. A lot of other nonsense stuff came out of his mouth. I listened for a bit but started to feel very strange and loose so I left.
And that was the night I put on three inch heels and went on a date with a midget.

2 thoughts on “Shingle Mill”

  1. martin bannon - July 1, 2013 2:24 pm

    A BIT STRANGE BUT NO STRANGER THAN MY YOUNG TEEN YEARS.

    1. T Whitaker - July 1, 2013 2:44 pm

      well I have done and seen a lot, besides, truth is always stranger then fiction

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