"The Bakery"
Upon deciding to move to Springfield and continue school as a Senior, I had called the school to ask how many classes I would have to take to be able to play football and graduate at semester so I could go on to college in January. I was told I would have to take three classes.
When football season was over, I started looking for a job. I worked at McDonalds for a bit, but it just wasn’t what I wanted to do. Then I started looking for a job in a bakery thinking this would be something totally new and challenging. I always enjoyed cooking and baking at home.
The “first dream girl’s” uncle had just moved back to town and had bought a small bakery specializing in donuts, pastries, cookies, specialty breads, and decorated cakes. She put in a word for me, and I got a job there. However, Shirley was upset with the late hours I was required to work and after just a few days, made me quit.
My next step was to get set up to go to college the next semester. I went to the University to apply but was told I would need a note from the school that I would be graduating from at the end of the semester, and I went to get one. However, I was told that the rules had changed.
Originally, I only had to take three classes, but now they changed it to 6 classes to graduate by the end of the semester. I had finished all my credits from Butler to be able to graduate but I had to take these classes to get a diploma from this school. I cleaned out my locker, turned in my books, and quit school that day.
I called back up to Butler to try to get my diploma from there but because I had moved, they couldn’t do it. I checked into getting my General Educational Development Test (GED), got set up to take it, and the University let me register.
Continuing my job search, I went to St. John’s Health Center where my family worked and applied for and got an orderly job as I was considering a career in medicine. Shirley found out and blocked me from getting the job because she was angry that I had quit school. I ended up taking a part time job in the Hospital’s kitchen.
Shirley also decided to start charging me rent. I called the local police department and asked how old I had to be to legally move out and was told that I could do so now at age seventeen and no one would bother me.
I went back to the bakery owner and asked for a loan so I could move out of home to an apartment, allowing me to come back to work for him. He gave me the loan and I moved that day. Between the two jobs I was working fifty to sixty hours a week, but I loved it.
The bakery turned out to be the most favorite job I have ever had. The owner had hired a lifelong scratch baker that had just moved back from California. He was great to work with and I learned a lot from him, things they just don’t teach anymore.
The first night in my new apartment, I took a bath in this huge claw foot bathtub. As I sat soaking, I said to myself, “I feel like I just got out of prison”. I had finally escaped from the drama of the Reynolds household.