At age sixteen, I worked in a furniture store. Our small town had two such stores, but Waugh Furniture had the legacy, having been around for fifty years. The other guys were fly-by-night, you know the type who sell seemingly big discounts, but the so-called sales price is still the normal mark-up.
Mornings started with the grand sweep-up. Our crew of five employees swept the cavernous showrooms from…
