The Most Interesting Teenager In The World

Hubsy and I were bent over belly laughing at the idea of The Most Interesting Teenager In The World, and the various internet memes we could create, based on the misadventures of our Punkin.

But first, you need to know a little back story, so you can fully appreciate the "say whaaaa?" and the Curly Joe foot stomp/face slap that accompanies such moments of disbelief.

The sun shone down upon us, that day that Punkin landed her first job.  Hubsy had already positioned her as a temporary marketing assistant in his office.  Basically, a street corner sign spinner who stuffed envelopes on rainy days.  Both Punkin and The Boy worked about four days a week, and were bringing some much needed funds into the household.  But on this day, she officially held two jobs.

After months of looking for work, a local boy that she met at the nearby skate park hooked her up with a sweet gig at his place, as a food prepper and order taker at Domino's Pizza.  They took her paperwork, and wanted her to begin training right away.  So, while waiting out the remainder of her time at Dad's office, she took on both responsibilities.  We were so proud.

Before long, this skater boy became the boyfriend and since, more often than not, they worked the same schedule, he provided the lift to and from.  On other occasions she procured rides from various other friends and coworkers.  Hey, we offered.  We were declined.  But that's okay because it saved us time and gas money, and she was being so responsible, and we were so proud.

(Ppssst... there was never a job at Domino's.)

She had to borrow a shirt from her father, in the proper style and color, until her uniform order came in, but she washed it and wore it at least three days a week, on the late shift.  Her schedule included one weekend day and two to three weekdays, from 6 to 1 a.m.  Some nights she didn't even get in until 2 or 3, after they finished counting receipts, kitchen cleanup, and sometimes food prep for the following shift.  During slow hours, she would sometimes accompany a driver out on a delivery run. $2.00 here, $5.00 there... she came home with tips!  

(Hey, there was never a job at Domino's.)

For three months, she entertained us with stories of The Domino's Adventure.  She reenacted conversations that she had with rude telephone customers.  We laughed at the hilarity of the soap bubble catastrophe, when their dishwasher overflowed... she showed us pics on her phone of the bubbly water covering the kitchen floor.  She often came home with flour on her shirt, and in her hair, or on her face.  A visiting friend once commented on how she smelled of pizza!  She even confided to us that the hinges on their front door were broken, and the door could not be fully secured.  It took a week for them to get it fixed.  We did drive her in one night, when her ride was more than fashionably late.  I watched her walk through the front door, and then through the employee door.  I saw her hug her boyfriend just before the door swung closed.   

(Have I mentioned that she never worked at Domino's?)

She sweetly offered to prepare dinner for the family one night.  She couldn't wait to share with us the manner in which Domino's makes chicken strip wraps with honey mustard dressing.  When did she become such a sweetheart?  I remember working at a fast food joint at her age, and I thoroughly enjoyed serving up the various foods that I learned how to make, fast food style.

Okay, so there was one issue with this job.  Three months of work  and not a paycheck to show.  But she made the appropriate complaints to the managers, in their hierarchy.  Apparently, she wasn't the only one, and the parents of the other boy who was being stiffed a paycheck had already filed complaints with the franchise owner, and the corporate office.  And yes, there was a particular manager who had been creative with his reporting of employee hours and yes, he was fired.  

(Remember what I said, now, there was never any job for her at Domino's)

We wanted to have her quit the job, after the first month of no paycheck, but she had been working so hard and logging so many hours that, when the paperwork was settled, they would have to pay for all of this time.  And it was certainly better than having her unemployed again, just sleeping and lounging around the house all day.  But we finally broke down and Hubsy decided to handle this matter once and for all.  She even Googled the corporate phone number for him and handed him the phone!  She stood right there beside her father while he was told that they have no record of her, but that they would check with the franchise owner.  He called and agreed that nobody had any idea as to who in the hell she was.  Hubsy and I drove to the store and showed her photograph to the night manager, who had never seen her face before.

(Did I mention that there was no job at Domino's?)

There was no freakin' job at Domino's!

So, where was my seventeen year old daughter, from 6 until 3 o'clock in the morning, three to four nights a week?!  I don't know, gallivanting around Raleigh with her friends, I suppose.  Your guess is as good as mine.  There was a story about riding around with and assisting a friend who does some sort of towing and roadside assistance.  But, hey, how can we know for sure?  Will we ever know? We'll know more about the suit  that Jimmy Hoffa was buried in than we ever will about our daughter.



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