by John C. Schoeni
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It’s the last
Saturday in April and I head out the door for my job at Turk’s Men’s Shop.
Mr. Turk has taken a chance on a 15-year-old, partly because my brother,
William T. (Bill) Schoeni is the manager. I’ve been to Turk’s Men’s
Shop several times to buy and to visit my brother, and Mr. Turk has enjoyed
my shenanigans and the fact that I can impersonate John F. Kennedy almost
as well as Vaughn Meader. |
When I open the door at 2402 Mt. Vernon
Avenue I am greeted with the job of filling a bucket with ammonia and hot
water in the bathroom behind the register, to find the sponge on the stick
and the long squeegee. The fumes are like tear gas and my throat
starts to itch. It’s time to wash the windows. It used to be
Mr. Smith’s job, now he’s glad to see me.
Mr. Smith is a tall, serious looking
man who resembles an older Henry Fonda. He’s just arrived for his
part-time job. He’s quiet but clever and witty like Fonda but doesn’t
have the fame, the money or the popularity. Yet I’d see one of his
movies
if he could act.
As I’m drawing the last streak of wash
water off the window I see a cute blonde in a short skirt walking by.
I turn demurely to look at her legs then stop quick when I realize it’s
Mr. Turk’s oldest daughter Rochelle. Rochelle and I are in the same
year at George Washington High School but we seldom talk. I’m too
shy and she’s too good looking. She smiles and says hello and that’s
a big thing for me. She doesn’t realize that Bill Karas whom we also
go to school with at G.W. is inside buying a bleeding Madras shirt and
a pair of Bass Weejuns. When Rochelle tries to walk to the back of
the store to pick up something from Dad, she’s intercepted by Billy Boy
as he’s known to his friends, for a date. He’s persistent and clever
with his approach, yet everyone knows what the answer will be - a polite,
smiling NO! The same no I’d probably get if I had the nerve to ask
her out. But Billy Boy keeps his chin up and starts thinking about
next time.
Customers who have not been waiting
at the door for the store to open begin arriving. Some are looking
for dress shirts, some for shoes, some for underwear, a few are in a rush
because even in the sixties there’s lots to do on a Saturday and some are
just there to socialize. One social butterfly is James Duncan.
He walks in in grey overcoat and hat. He looks like he’s going to
the office but he’s just there to spend two hours shooting the breeze.
I think he’s funny, some say he’s slow, on the verge of retarded.
I don’t judge him and enjoy his shenanigans. He gives Mr. Turk a
hard time just to rattle his cage then begins on Mr. Smith. But Mr.
Smith has his number and when he strokes James under his chin and around
his neck, James bunches up like a baby and laughs until he turns red, as
Mr. Smith says, “He’s getting pink around the gills.” Or, “James
is getting fat enough to butcher.” And that brings on more laughter.
A woman arrives to pick out clothes
for her husband who won’t even come with her to try them on. She’s
very specific and requires a lot of time so I feel sorry for Mt. Smith
as he walks around with her answering a hundred questions and trying to
make her feel important. And she is, because Mr. Turk always emphasizes
the importance of each customer. Mr. Turk comes by to see if he can
help Mr. Smith with answers and they both help the lady. Mr. Turk
has a habit when he’s nervous of moving his head back and forth to get
his tight suit off his neck. It’s as if he is uncomfortable in a
suit and tie and would rather be home in a sports shirt and old comfortable
pants. His mannerisms become a trademark, at least for me.
Stanley Hicks arrives late for his part
time job and has his younger brother Bobby with him. Stanley wants
to show Bobby the new Alumni Shop that Mr. Turk and my brother have conjured
up to attract the juniors and seniors in high school and the young college
crowd. It’s a corner of the store near the back partitioned off with
plywood covered with red brick paper and a sign over the door painted by
my father. It’s in Old English and gold and simply says: Alumni Shop.
Stanley heads there to check out the Windsor shirts, the Van Heusens, the
Arrows, the Cricketeer sports coats, the Bass Weejuns, the button down
shirts (no one would wear a fly away collar now) and Chino pants.
It’s the sixties and this is where the latest fashions for men are in Alexandria.
Bobby goes wild while Stanley tries to control his younger brother’s spending.
I check the clock. It’s already
eleven as my brother gives me a cash register slip with scribbling on the
back and asks me to go Lawrence’s to pick up everyone’s lunch and to get
myself something. Lawrence’s is a block away near the Scott Shop
and I’m glad to take a breather from the clothes. When I get to the
delicatessen the sandwiches are wrapped in white paper waiting and the
cash register slip is to double check the order. Now all I have to
do is find a Hires Root Beer and a Nehi orange drink. When I get
back to clothing central the boys are chomping at the bit for lunchtime
to begin as Marty Turk, Mr. Turk’s son, arrives to help out on a busy Saturday
and just in time for lunch. Marty works weekdays but Dad has drafted
his help for the busy weekend. He heads for Lawrence’s and is back
before the crew has finished chowing down.
Mr. Turk used to brag that he was going
home to make himself a banana milkshake. He described them in such
a way that I couldn’t resist asking if I could try one. That’s when
he invited me to his house that night on the way home to taste one of the
specialties. I was honored to get an invitation to the boss’s house.
After that it became a standing joke and he’d fix me a banana milkshake
or invite me to his house. It was on Howell Avenue at the corner
of Commonwealth and was very nice. I got to meet his wife Shirley
and met the funny and gregarious Glenda, Rochelle’s younger sister.
She could kid and cut up better than anyone. I figured since I was
16 and was a big shot, I could ask a thirteen-year-old girl to the movies.
I knew Rochelle would never go with me so I flirted with the idea of taking
Glenda. But dad soon discouraged it and said I should wait until
she was 16.
Mr. Turk has made the final decision
to close up his new store, the second Turk’s Men’s Shop, in the Shirlington
Shopping Center in Arlington. Everyone is sad because it has given
us a chance to diversify and work in the new store in the new shopping
center. But business is not so good at the new store and soon we
will be running a huge going out of business sale and working long hours,
so you can imagine I’m not keen on all of this. But it will be awhile before
that happens.
Today I’m also learning how to do alternations.
I’ve been summoned to the back room of the building that was once the Palm
Theater. I remember all too well hearing of a Sunday that my brother
was going to a movie with my mother. It is small for a theater by
today’s standards but they have nothing to compare it to so they were happy
to have a Sunday outing. As I look around the back room I imagine
when the screen stood there and gave Del Ray residents a chance to see
the latest flicks. The cash register counter in the front was no
doubt where the ticket booth was and the first counter in the middle that
now holds pants was the pop corn, candy and soda counter.
My brother lays out pants on the ironing
board and shows me how to measure the inseam with a yardstick then mark
the correct length based on previous measurements from the customer.
I use a white wax stick that will melt when the iron makes the final crease.
Then he shows me how to cut across the line at the cuff, how to roll them
up seam inside and run the cuffs through the sewing machine. Finally
he shows me how to change the sewing machine’s setting, roll up the cuff
and tack it with the machine. I iron the cuffs and they are ready
for delivery. Only once did I cut the cuffs while part of them were
on the inside waistband and cut off a piece of material from the inside
waist. I sweated when the customer picked the pants up. He
didn’t say anything but I expected every day for two weeks that he would
call up and complain. Then I realized he wasn’t coming back.
It’s been almost 40 years and I now think I am off the hook.
While I am finishing up another pair
of pants I hear John F. Kennedy’s voice across the P.A. system and feel
proud that our president is speaking on the radio. Then something
sounds funny and I realize that he wouldn’t be speaking at this time of
day on a Saturday. When I listen more intently I realize that Mr.
Turk is playing a tape of one of my funny skits in which I impersonated
the President. I think to myself, “Gee, that wasn’t bad. I
thought it was Vaughn Meader.”
My mother helps out when there’s a big
sale. She’s at the register while us clerks bring her customers with
piles of clothes. This makes Mr. Turk very happy because he is already
worried about the demise of the Shirlington store. I’ve always heard
it said that you shouldn’t be taught how to drive by a relative.
And now I can kind of understand what it means. I bring my mother
a pile of clothes being purchased by Bill Karas from the Alumni Shop.
There’s three pairs of socks at 99 cents each. I call out the prices
while my mother rings them up. I say, “three 99s.” She hears
$3.99 and rings it up. I say, “No, there’s three pairs of socks at
99 cents a pair – three 99s.” She says, “It sounded to me like “$3.99.”
And I answer, “What pair of socks would cost $3.99? What do you think
this is, 2001?” And she says, “Watch your tone with me boy, I’ll
box your ears.” Then Mr. Turk steps in to void the register sale
and my brother Bill steps in to calm the feathers of his mother and younger
brother. Thank goodness Bill Karas is a
friend because he’s gone off to try and get another date with Rochelle
and hopes that
when he comes back he’ll have a total and can put it on his personal Turk’s
account that has fallen slightly in arrears. Mr. Turk counsels Bill
by the front window and when he comes back Bill takes his purchases and
promises to bring in a ten-dollar payment this week. If it weren’t
for the generosity of Jerry Turk, many of us then would have been walking
around Del Ray half-naked. But then I think I hear him mumbling to
himself, “That’s how I ruin myself, being generous.” And then I think
of the closing of the Shirlington store but decide to keep my young opinions
to myself so I can stay employed and keep on getting banana milkshakes.
A lull in the action. No customers.
As I’m about to stand in front of the Windsor shirt table and stare at
the labels, it is suggested by my brother that I use the steamer to take
out the wrinkles on the Cricketeer sports coats. And that sounds
like more fun than listening to Mister Smith eat peanuts by way of a Coca-Cola.
Mr. Sam Turk, Jerry Turk’s brother,
rushes in with a question for his brother about the grand opening of the
Baby Store that they are putting in next-door. The two brothers confer
and as usual Mr. Turk is the expert on retail stores. His other brother
Morty is in town and stops in to make an appearance. He is tall and
reminds me now of Jerry Orbach who is on TV and was the voice of the candelabra
in Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast.”
Evening comes quick to a full day and
it soon approaches the magic hour – six o’clock – closing time. Mr.
Turk is finally tired after a long week so he’s not one to hang around.
Glenda walks in from somewhere and asks her father for a ride home.
He’s got a stack of boxes and is stopping for an errand. Glenda is
joking with everyone and displays her trademark laugh which lights up the
whole store. I more than anyone am listening to her from a distance
and wonder if I can wait long enough to take her to the movies. By the
time four short years goes by I am 20 and on my way to getting married
and Glenda is only 17. Thirty-five years later I am using E-mail
to write friends and find Rochelle on the Internet in Florida. She
has children and says Glenda is still in Virginia and I wonder what they
all look like. She says that her father passed away six years ago and I
stop and think. A long silence comes over me as I remember in a flood
of recollections, Jerry Turk who took over the old Palm Theater to create
his new location at 2402 Mt. Vernon Avenue, “the only men’s store in Del
Ray.” I smile at the remembrance of the taste of banana milkshakes.
And for some reason I recall the words of Gus in “Lonesome Dove” as he
stood over the grave marker of Josh Deits and the words Gus said about
Josh are certainly true for Jerry Turk. “Cheerful in all weathers,
never shirked a task, splendid behavior.” I could add to that – a
great friend! |