The summer after I graduated from high school, and before I began college, I worked in a men’s retail clothing store in downtown Atlanta. The name of the company was Parks-Chambers, and I worked in the credit office on the third floor of an old building. The store had been there for many years.
There was an elevator in the building, and it was one of those elevators with an attendant. His name was Roy. He seemed like a kid, but was older than he looked. He was disabled. He couldn’t talk very well and his right hand did not function, so he worked the elevator with his left hand. It had one of those doors that looked like a cage that pulled with a handle sticking into the cab of the elevator. So, Roy had to close the outside doors, then he had to close the cage-type door inside, both with his left hand. Everybody loved Roy.
My job was to approve credit sales. There was a credit manager named Mr. Fleming. I was to look up the accounts and see if they were good paying customers. If they had a good account, I could approve the ticket. If not, or it was a new account, Mr. Fleming would have to approve it.