I've always liked the people I work with at the tennis club and now I actually love one of them. Before you start thinking I've revealed some scandalous secret that you can someday blackmail me with, I should mention that two weeks ago we hired a new, young, very charming young man. My son.
While I'm thrilled to find another way to share our mutual love of tennis I'm more thrilled that he's again gainfully employed and spending a lot less time in front of the computer. His last job was serving at a local breakfast place. He made good money and it really helped him get more comfortable relating to the public since, surprisingly, very few strangers found their way to the bedroom in which he usually sequestered himself. Unfortunately, the restaurant succumbed to the economic downturn and my son found himself out of a job.
When I first mentioned the possibility of coming to work at the club, you can imagine his reaction. A twenty-one year old who doesn't jump at the chance to work with his mom? Shocking. But slowly, (as his bank account dwindled), he warmed to the idea. He would get a free membership to the only indoor tennis club in the area, co-ordinate his hours to his school schedule and make just enough money to keep him afloat. What could be wrong with that? Oh yeah. I'd be there.
Despite his misgivings, I think it's working out. His shifts only marginally overlap mine. When he works the late shift, he even gets time to do his homework. He's also discovered the joys of being paid to play tennis when one of the members fails to show up. Now, if he can just figure out what to call me in front of customers, all will be right with the world.
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