Minetta Lane

Chapter 4: Job Hunting

Chapter 4

Job Hunting

ARMED WITH HIS high school diploma and the help-wanted section of the newspaper, Bodee started looking for a job. His goal: to become a full-time clerk in an office. Some hiring managers told him there were no positions available despite the job listing in the paper and the other applicants waiting to be seen. Others were more direct and explained that Colored folks had no place in an office. A few actually spoke to him, but determined he lacked the basic qualifications. After no success throughout the morning, it was clear he needed a new strategy.

A pamphlet with a headline that read “Cool off at Pier 6” blew by Bodee as he bent to tie his shoelace. He chased it down and carefully read the advertisement, which described the new floating baths the city had set up to help people battle the heat. Bodee remembered the hours he spent at the beach in Brooklyn and all of the compliments he received from his high school classmates about his strong swimming abilities. He headed over to Pier 6.

“Need a job, sir. Who can I talk to?”

“Listen, boy, don’t want no more deckhands or anyone else for the grunt work. You’re out of luck.”

“No, sir. I’m looking for work in the baths.” Bodee pointed to a Help Wanted sign on the wall behind the man’s head and said, “I want to apply for the lifeguard job because I swim real well. They say I’m a natural.”

The man laughed under his breath. “Hold your thought and wait right here. I’ll be right back.”

Bodee scanned the setup of the baths. The structure was supported by eight pontoons, four on each side. He read the signs—two separate swimming areas about ninety-five feet long and sixty feet wide would serve adults and children. The adult pool was four and a half feet deep and the children’s pool only two and a half feet. Despite the shallow waters, lifeguards were needed. Bodee’s high school classmates were not unusual—very few people in the city could swim. The diving board brought on an image of children jumping into the water with smiles on their faces. Bodee didn’t hear the men approaching.

“Wake up, boy. Tell my friends what you told me.”

“I want to apply for a job as a lifeguard.”

“No, you said something different before. I thought you said you are a natural swimmer. Right?”

“Well, yeah. The teachers at my school told me I’m a natural.”

The man repeated Bodee’s statement with a high-pitched voice while prancing on his toes. “The teachers say I’m a natural!” His two colleagues laughed and Bodee tried to leave but one of the men grabbed him by the collar. “Not so soon. Need to school you a bit.” The man turned to his coworkers. “I think he got this all wrong. What do we think he’s a natural at?”

“Picking up s**t!”

“No, taking s**t!”

“Yeah, he’s a s**t natural, or no, a natural s**t! Yeah, that’s what he is! I guess it works both ways!”

After two more minutes of finger-pointing, back-slapping, and general hysteria, one of the men put his hand up and the other two quieted down. “Thanks for the laugh, you stupid Darkey. Do you think anyone wants your Black a*s in this pool? We’d need to drain it after each time you went in—the fancy word is called contamination. That’s what you are, boy, pure and simple. No decent White folk gonna want to go into any water you touched.” A goodbye kick in the butt marked the end of Bodee’s potential career as a lifeguard. The walk back home to Minetta Lane gave him a chance to reconsider his job objective, as the single dollar bill in his pocket desperately needed some company. I’ll take anything at all—full-time, part-time, permanent, or temporary. None of it matters. I just need money.