s the Indian Summer bids a hasty retreat while eventide arrives sooner and sooner, the novelty of the new school year quickly wanes.

The fall fashions have already made their flash in the school hallways, children

They sent me out from under the concrete bleachers into the crowds and I yelled, “Pretzels! Pretzels!” and people would call me up the rows and rows of bleachers to buy a pretzel or two.

As first jobs go, there were lumps that tagged along.

There were always some smart aleck kids who timed it just right so that when you turned away, they could pelt you with a chunk of pretzel from your blind side. There was never any way to know who threw it. Such was the yoke of working in the real world.

And, of course, every sleazy classmate I spent my academic career avoiding suddenly professed undying friendship – now, if only I could sneak them a few free pretzels, my boss wouldn’t mind. After all, what are good friends for?

These guys would have been the first to clobber me with a chunk of pretzel.

When the game was over, Teen Angel and I headed back to the bakery-deli where he would work a while. I would wait around to get paid.

Original published Sept. 18, 1997, in Worrall Community Newspapers.

Copyright © 1997 - 2017 by Anthony Buccino

Adapted from RAMBLING ROUND  Inside and Outside at the Same Time

Also appears in Greetings from Belleville, New Jersey collected writings by Anthony Buccino