As Sophia on The Golden Girls would say, picture it: Largo, Florida, 1989. After high school, I had gotten a job as a microfilming clerk in a place off of Ulmerton Road in Clearwater near a new series of industrial and commercial offices called the ICOT Center.
My boss was a woman in her early to 30’s who was rather pleasant to work with for someone in me who was a few months shy of 18. I wasn’t the best of clerks there, and I got ridden pretty hard when I made mistakes prepping medical documents for microfilming. (I just a Google search on the company, and as I suspected, they are no longer around. Perhaps one of my victims in the technological boom of the last few decades.)
She was also a wrestling fan, and would often demonstrate for us the way James Hellwig (The Ultimate Warrior) would grab and shake the ring ropes as part of his ring entrance. She also had a fondness for, ahem, female martial aids. One day, she surprised a few of her female co-workers by bringing in a few dildos that resembled the male genitalia.
It was a big culture shock for me, never having seen one of those before. Just as it was a culture shock for me going to middle school (which I began a few days before I turned 11 in 1982) and having to take showers with my male classmates. I had already gone through puberty at that point, one of the few in school in the sixth grade who had any grass on his field, so to speak.
Anyway, I left the job when I got the radio gig at WTAN. The microfilming gig only paid $130 a week, and I thought at the time that I should have been paid more for the grief I’d gotten and the skills acquired. As they say in the Mob, it wasn’t anything personal, it was just business and getting the chance to do something I thought I’d love.