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Life in New York Continues - Without Carol (Cont)
Screen 2 of 4I was told the weekly salary would be $15.00 (Six eight-hour days at $2.50 a day) and that I would be issued a uniform shortly after the interview. That was it, except he did add as I was leaving that I would be paid each Saturday afternoon. Later, when I was in the uniform room, I asked the assistant chief usher what time the theatre opened and closed. To my amazement, he informed me it opened at ten o'clock in the morning and closed at 7 A.M.! "at the end of your midnight shift:" And for the cheap 10 ¢ admission price, he said, many people without shelter came there to sleep between 12 and 7, others during the day.
My first several days in that ushering job were full of problems and frustrations. One problem was related to money -- or rather, the lack of it. I began work on a Wednesday night, knowing that I would not be paid until Saturday. When I came back to our apartment early Thursday morning, I found a note from Bob saying he had gone to Connecticut and would not return until Sunday. Then just before going to bed, I counted the change in my pocket. I had 55 ¢. That was all the money I would have until pay day -- more than two days later! Since our tiny refrigerator was stocked with only four apples, I was faced with getting by until Saturday afternoon with those four apples and the 55 ¢ of which 20 ¢ would be needed for two round trips on the subway -- Thursday and Friday nights. But I managed: one bowl of chili (with crackers) 5 ¢ and a glass of milk, 5 ¢, plus one apple on Thursday; the same menu Friday afternoon; and on Saturday, two apples, a 10 ¢ bowl of oatmeal and a 5 ¢ cup of coffee at the Automat. Saturday night, after I received $7.50 for three days' work at the Jefferson, I splurged and spent 75 ¢ for dinner -- a pork chop, several vegetables, milk, and apple pie. That piece of pie at the Automat reminded me of the first night Carol and I were in New York, when she and I divided a piece of fresh apple pie at that same Automat. And again I wondered why I had not heard from her. What had happened? Where could she be? Why hadn't she written?
The next morning I took the subway down to Washington Square and went to Dr. Williams' apartment. Luckily, he was there. When I found that neither he nor his wife had heard from Carol, I did not stay long. It was Sunday, and they were preparing to go away for the day. Moreover, without Carol there, they and I did not have much in common. Before leaving, I gave them my address on 57th Street and asked them to write me or call my landlady if they learned anything about Carol's whereabouts. In the meantime, none of us could write to her, since we did not know her address.
Several times during the fall, I was given minor roles in plays which went through rehearsals but never opened. And once I danced in a chorus line of a musical comedy which seemed to have promise. We rehearsed for a few weeks and even opened for a sneak preview before an audience which we thought was appreciative. But the reviews were abominable, and the show closed after the first night.
These opportunities to perform on stage were welcome and encouraging, but the great disappointment caused by the show's not continuing was so devastating I just stopped looking for further employment as an actor.
Many aspects of my job at the Jefferson were unpleasant and aggravating, but it did allow me to get by -- if only minimally. During the day when I was not working or sleeping, I continued to look for other kinds of employment, something more akin to my interests and professional goals. Having majored in French in college, I thought I might get a position with some rich family -- there were still quite a few of them in New York, in spite of the depression -- as a traveling companion and interpreter in France, or as a caretaker and teacher of school-age children taking trips abroad with their families.
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