I was 15 years old. It was decision time. Keep playing sports into high school which meant hitting the weight room or try my hat at as junior capitalist and make me some money. I wasn't crazy about the weight room so that was that. Got myself hired on at Mandarin Produce - a table and a bunch of bushel baskets under an old oak tree in a parking lot. I think I still hold the record for sales of Silver Queen corn. One day we went big time and moved into an honest to goodness strip mall store with 4 walls and air conditioning. I can still remember shelling all those fresh peas. Feedin' em into the machine and then lookin' em before they went out front in a basket. I may have eaten more produce than I sold. Gobs of fresh blueberries, strawberries, 2 inch freestones that dripped juice all down your shirt. Mm mm mm. Then one day I got fired for mouthin' off. Imagine that. Later still they went "big time" and started selling milk, then meat, then dry goods. Couple months later they were out of business. They shoulda kept me. More likely, they shoulda never left the oak tree. Found out twenty years later I had it in my blood going back a hundred years or more. One side of the family made its way running neighborhood groceries and the other side delivering produce door to door. In fact, the day my maternal grandfather died he was selling fruit in his sleep. Hollering out "Eight for a dime" in a final vision from 80 years past. I imagine Pepere was selling muscadines to St. Peter on the way in. Anyway, that's more than you asked for.