They had this thing called Training Class, and so for 30 minutes each night, anyhow, we didn’t have to stick mail.

A big Italiano got up on the lecture platform to tell us where it was.

“. . . now there’s nothing like the smell of good clean sweat but there’s nothing worse than the smell of stale sweat . . .”

Good god, I thought, am I hearing right? This thing is govern– ment sanctioned, surely. This big oaf is telling me to wash under the armpits. They wouldn’t do this to an engineer or a concert-master. He’s downgrading us.

“. . . so take a bath everyday. You will be graded upon appearance as well as production.”

I think he wanted to use the word “hygienics” somewhere but it simply wasn’t in him.

Then he went to the back of the lecture platform and pulled down a big map. And I mean big. It covered half the stage. A light was shone upon the map. And the big Italiano took a pointer with the little rubber nipple on the end of it like they used in grammar school and he pointed to the map:

“Now, you see all this GREEN? Well, there’s a hell of a lot of it. Look!”

He took the pointer and rubbed it back and forth along the green.

There was quite a bit more anti-Russian feeling then than there is now. China had not yet begun to flex her muscles. Vietnam was just a little firecracker party. But I still thought, I must be crazy! I can’t be hearing right? But nobody in the audience protested. They needed jobs. And according to Joyce, I needed a job.

Then he said, “Look here. That’s Alaska! And there they are!

Looks almost as if they could jump across, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said some brainwash job in the front row.

The Italiano flipped the map. It leaped crisply up into itself, crackling in war fury.
Then he walked to the front of the stage, pointed his rubber-titted pointer at us.

“I want you to understand that we’ve got to hold down the budget! I want you to understand that EACH LETTER YOU STICK—EACH SECOND, EACH MINUTE, EACH HOUR, EACH DAY, EACH WEEK—EACH EXTRA LETTER YOU STICK BEYOND DUTY HELPS DEFEAT THE RUSSIANS! Now, that’s all for today. Before you leave, each of you will receive your scheme assignment.”

Scheme assignment. What was that?

Somebody came along handing out these sheets.

“Chinaski?” he said.

“Yeh?”

“You have zone 9.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I didn’t realize what I was saying. Zone 9 was the largest station in the city. Some guys got tiny zones. It was the same as the two foot tray in 23 minutes—they just rammed it into you.