Blogs » Learning in Freedom » Confessions of a Former Hooker

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“Open confession is good for the soul,” or maybe “There are things to confess that enrich the world, and things that need not be said.”

Confession is good for the soul but I wonder how much information is too much information when it comes to confessions on our local logosphere. Scottish proverb or Joni Mitchell?

I figure we all have a past, some shadier than others.

My shady past began during my childhood. Times were tough when I was growing up. Once or twice a year we were faced with the daunting challenge of getting a hundred bales of hay from the flatbed trailer into the second story loft of the barn. This required everyone to take on a specialized task. My job was usually that of the “hooker.”

As “hooker” I stood in the opening of the barn loft with my hook in hand ready to pierce the bale of hay as it was hoisted up and swung in my direction. It was the “swingers” job to cause the bale to swing towards and away from the opening of the loft. I had to learn to use that momentum to strategically guide the bale into the loft. If I didn’t accomplish my goal as the bale was swinging towards me I had to quickly let go of the hook or else I would leave the loft still attached to the bale. Once the bale was hooked and pulled into the loft the person behind me neatly stacked the bales – I was probably “stacker” too.

I didn’t weigh much more than a bale of hay so I am not sure how I defied the laws of physics and avoided falling to my death. Looking back I wonder if my parents had it out for me.

The greatest reward, besides completing the task, was finally getting to play with the rope and two-story-high pulley. You can imagine the rappelling that took place.

At the time, I hated growing up in the country: it’s where I developed my skill of artfully avoiding manual labor. Looking back, I realize that the chores I hated the most while growing up now provide me with my fondest and my most rewarding memories.

It hurts to confess that to my mom.

My sister recently confessed to me that while in the Navy she was a “stripper” aka deck hand, so I’m not the only one in my family with a shady past!

Maybe Peter De Vries, “Confession is good for the soul only in the sense that a tweed coat is good for dandruff—it is palliative rather than a remedy.” Also, the “stoned by popcorn” quote is fun.


Comments


  • I can't say that I am sorry to have disappointed a few of you. =P

    September 2, 2010 at 8:43 a.m.

  • I need to admit I was looking for the confession of a hooker, not a hooker. I throughly enjoyed your work, I look forward to more.
    I, for myself, have no word play; but I am proud of having been a Comalman 1st Class back in the day.

    September 1, 2010 at 7:45 a.m.

  • Great pen! Completely enjoyed your witty methods.... Thanks for sharing

    September 1, 2010 at 7:20 a.m.

  • Great post!!!

    August 31, 2010 at 10:23 p.m.

  • I guess my being a "scooper" or a "dipper" at Baskin-Robbins doesn't carry the same panache as your first job, Rebecca, although I'm sure I could work up a lot of double-entendres with pistachios and cream and all. ;)

    August 31, 2010 at 9:25 p.m.

  • I'm glad you liked it. I was scared to post it. I enjoyed reading the comments and I'm glad that some of you have shady pasts too. =P

    August 31, 2010 at 9:20 p.m.

  • I enjoyed your story, Rebecca. It reminded me of the time I worked for the airline here in Victoria. There are a LOT of snakes at the airport and we had a garden hoe just inside the bag makeup room door that was used to kill snakes. For quite some time, I was the token male at the airline and the snake killing duties fell to me. Because of the weapon, I was the designated "hoer" for Continental Connection.

    August 31, 2010 at 6:36 p.m.

  • One of my first jobs was in the mail room at the Advocate. I was a 'shaker'. I was handed stacks of newspaper fresh off the press and insert machines. My job was to make the neat stacks of a certain number. The fresh ink rubbed off a bit and the insides of my forearms always got dry and raw. It taught me a lot about hard work, but even better, it taught me that a job was the best way to earn money for things I really needed. I shook my mony maker for about a year and kept my stomach full and fresh strings on my first guitar.

    I got a kick out of your post Rebecca!!! Awesome wordplay!!!

    August 31, 2010 at 4:13 p.m.

  • My first job right out of high school was as a "hooker". I worked in a steel mill in Houston and was responsible for (donned in a TON of protective gear) hooking chains around hot bundles of steel so the overhead crane operator could pick them up and move them. I later graduated to "stripper" and finally made "leaderman" (yes, I'm a female). I listed these positions on my resume for years...always got me an interview. LOL!

    August 31, 2010 at 3:49 p.m.

  • Great job Rebecca - loved the story!
    X

    August 31, 2010 at 2:37 p.m.

  • A masterful job of connecting all the words....:-)

    August 31, 2010 at 2:09 p.m.

  • I agree with Kyle-

    Funny stuff, Rebecca!

    August 31, 2010 at 1:29 p.m.

  • Twice the entendre's! Twice the value! Smokin' hot blog, Rebecca!

    August 31, 2010 at 1:03 p.m.