Monthly Archives: August 2014

Cash a check


I changed my name to cash a check. No, my name’s not Cash a Check. The story goes, I was living in Philadelphia and moved to California; San Francisco to be exact and began selling handpainted greeting cards to gift stores, florists, anyone really who would pay me for my art.
One shop owner wrote out a check using the abbreviated name I’d signed my prints with; not my proper birth name but I only noticed this when I hit the bank to cash it. I really needed to get paid, I was hungry and didn’t have money to eat so without skipping a beat, I did the next logical thing and trotted over to the DMV to change my name. Back in 1998, they’d accept any excuse you made up, and so I told the lady I got divorced and was going back to my sur name, even though, at the time, I’d never been married but it worked; I changed my name to cash a check.

Hi, I’m Jill, I’ll be your waitress for the evening…


diner sign_waitress Tonight’s special is Roast Beef Au Joust, your choice of mashed or baked potato and the salad bar is included for 12.95. I had to pass a written test in order to serve that cuisine. Ruthie Wallerstein’s mom asked me, “Does your mother know you’re doing this? ”when I handed her a plate of mashed potatoes, roast beef and Sourdough bread sliced on a board. But I had no idea what she meant until us gang of us waiters went out for drinks after work and the bartender there asked me the same damn thing. I began to wonder if there was something wrong with waitressing, some societal stigma everyone else but me, knew. And when Ruth’s mom bragged, as I topped off her coffee, that Ruthie had two beautiful boys and was happily married for the past three years; I think I was supposed to be envious but instead I did the math, and realized we were only 22…I felt relieved.


Not good, says who?


 coolstuffMy highschool  boyfriend’s mom used to push his bedroom door open to make sure nothing was going on. He came from a “good” family and I was not to deter him from achieving greatness and carrying on the legacy. OK lady, we were only listening to Peter Frampton’s, “Do you feel what I feel.” Innocent enough. A couple times she sat me down in the kitchen, her idea of “girltalk” and served me instant coffee on a plastic tablecloth; confessing that my mother was so lucky to have daughters. Quick, someone please tell my mother about her good fortune – she didn’t get the memo. By eleventh grade, I’d broken up with golden boy; he didn’t talk enough and good thing for me too because that next year, he, along with fifteen other students got arrested for dealing out of the high school parking lot. Apparently, he was the brains behind the operation, I always knew he was smart; his dad was an accountant. Go figure, those math skills come in handy afterall, no matter what line you’re in.
Back to the bust; he was the kingpin, selling right out of pappa’s Cadillac trunk. Who knew? Of course, his rich family got him off, no jail time and even though the narc caught him red handed, he went on to graduate from an Ivy League college. Hmm, and she said I’d be his demise, I think not.