Saturday, July 14, 2012

Summer Jobs Series: Learning to handle ?ginch? in the hotel laundry

In this summer series, the National Post reporters and photographers bring us tales of that annual Canadian rite of passage for young people taking their first dip in the labour pool: This week, reader Sandi Bezanson-Chan of Richmond, B.C., shares her story:

In 1975, when I was 14 years old, my father got me a job working in the laundry of a local hotel. My parents signed a consent form so I could join the Hotel Workers and Bartenders Union and I was thrilled to be hired at $7.20 per hour. By comparison, my friends were earning $2.40 an hour at McDonald?s or $1.50 an hour babysitting.

Work started at 7 a.m. On the first day I was introduced to Shirley, a seasoned veteran of the laundry, who was to train me. Our first task was to untie bundles of stinking table linen and bar towels from the hotel?s restaurant and banquet service. Each tablecloth and napkin had to be shaken out individually in preparation for washing. No gloves were provided, so my method was to avoid touching anything except the clean edges of the fabric. I was quickly told I was taking too long and not to be ?all dainty about it.? The best I could do was to try to avoid being hit in the face by errant chunks of flying food debris.

The next job was ?mangling sheets.? The mangle iron was a 15-foot-wide machine comprised of massive rollers heated to a temperature a few degrees lower than the surface of the sun. Standing at opposite ends of the mangle with a trolley full of damp sheets between us, Shirley pulled out a sheet, handed me one corner and stretched it out between us. The idea was to feed the sheet into the first set of rollers tightly and evenly so that it would come out nice and flat on the other side, where another worker would fold it. Ol? Shirl was not what you would call a patient instructor. My first several attempts were unceremoniously yanked out of my hands before the sheet even made it into the rollers, Shirley sighing loudly and rolling her eyes each time.

I got the hang of it after about 20 or 30 sheets and was settling into the routine when, reaching into the trolley, I was horrified to spy a pair of men?s Jockey underpants in amongst the sheets. I stopped cold and let out a shriek (remember, I was 14). Shirley calmly looked into the trolley and said, ?Oh for Christ?s sake ? it?s just a pair of ginch!? She walked over to the corner where a yardstick was kept for such occasions, which I discovered were none too rare. She used it to pick up the offending garment and deposit it in a nearby trash can.

The rest of the day was spent perfecting the art of mangling sheets, pillowcases and table linen plus a lesson in precision towel-folding. By 3:30 I was exhausted, sweaty, aching and determined not to come back the next day.

In spite of the heat, the noise and the drudgery, I worked at that laundry every summer and on weekends during the school year until I finished high school. When I graduated I didn?t have a clue what I wanted to do, but I quit my job at the hotel and eventually drifted into banking.

I know what you?re thinking: No, I didn?t launder money.

National Post

The National Post invites readers to share their stories about summer jobs past. Email your stories ? no more than 400 words ? to summerjobs@nationalpost.com.

Source: http://news.nationalpost.com/2012/07/14/summer-jobs-series-learning-to-handle-ginch-in-the-hotel-laundry/

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