I don’t remember when I met Stoner Kelly. Jewel was full of colorful characters and I recall there were some silly nicknames, but nobody had a name like Stoner Kelly.
My first recollection of him was as I walked to the break room one day and saw this tall, hirsute, mouth breathing man, with large bags under his eyes, wearing a butcher’s apron and staring into space behind the meat counter. In other words, he looked stoned. All the time.
My public school record is immaculate: 13 years and not a single detention, referral, or suspension. But that record came close to having its first blemish when I was sent to the dean’s office in high school.
Note: In this occasional series, I’ll tell tales from my youth. Some will be about me, others about my friends. In this example, it’s the latter.
In high school I worked at the local Jewel grocery store. It was a pretty decent job; the hours were flexible and the pay we good. I never saw myself as a model employee, but compared to my coworkers I could be seen that way.