I was 18 years old, a bonifide weakling of 118 pounds. My mom's connections go me working part time as a laborer at a bank construction site while attending the local JC. The super's name was Lucky. He was a fancy dresser. allways a white shirt and cowboy tie, and shiny cowboy boots. One day we were pumping concrete for one of the vaults when the hose tube got clogged up. Lucky ordered me to release the lever lock between hose sections. I pulled and yanked with all my might. No go. Finally Lucky got impatient and grabbed it out of my hands and gave it a yank. He got covered head to foot in concrete. All I could see was his eyes. After a little while he started laughing with everybody else in the room, and I kept my job.
