This is a true story and deviates from the truth only through my forgetfulness of details. There are a 101 stories to be told of my affair with Norma but this is an account of the beginning. Comments encouraged.

In 1970 I got my first factory job in a small town in Arkansas. Before long the majority of the workers voted for union representation and went on strike. I didn't. I knew they were unskilled labor and would quickly be replaced. They were. I worked in the warehouse where rows of shelves held boxes of our finished product. I won't say what it was; it would be too easy to identify the place and the persons herein mentioned. My job was to take the boxes as they came from manufacturing and store them on the shelves in the warehouse according to catalog number, and then retrieve the