I’ve Never Done Whip-Its. You?
This is Not About Current Events...
My friend and co-worker, Isaac, said, "You should share that hot tip you had for the shooter in your next newsletter."
"I do not have a hot tip for the shooter."
"You said that he should have blasted the camera that was filming everything before he shot the CEO of UnitedHealthcare."
"Nooo. I don't want my newsletter to be about current events. And it wasn't a hot tip. I was saying that I’m surprised he didn't think to do that, even if he's just a regular guy and not a contracted hitman.”
"Oh, and you would have thought of that?"
Yes. I would have. Because I've done it before.
I know what you’re thinking.
Jen, you shot a surveillance camera with a gun?
No.
I covered one up with a dishtowel.
This is About Baskin Robbins
1991: Suburban Massachusetts. Every Friday and Saturday night, my co-worker Ray and I outsmarted a surveillance camera positioned above us by our hardened, disciplined, and not-here-to-fuck-around 60-year-old boss, Mr. Smith.
In 1991, the average person was never monitored anywhere they went. Unlike 2024, where I consent to having my face scanned for daily tasks, like:
Buying something online
Entering a building
Answering a phone call
Being filmed while making sundaes? Fucking weird.
Mr. Smith wasn't worried that employees would steal money or ice cream. He worried that employees would:
Play our alternative music cassette tapes—with song lyrics that could offend customers!
Be leanin' when we could be cleanin'.
Empty out cans of whipped cream to do "whip-its"
Mr. Smith was spick and span, buttoned up, and shoe-shined. He was ready for inspection at all times. He scoffed at my Doc Marten patent leather combat boots. "Those look like what I wore in the army. But fancy." Fancy was not a compliment.
When I worked daytime shifts with Mr. Smith, the camera pointed at us was OFF. We cleaned yogurt machines in silence. You could only hear the sounds of his favorite AM radio station if you put an ear to the boombox on the counter. The FM station that played the hits of the 1950's, Oldies 103, was too hardcore for Mr. Smith. His music turned our immediate world black and white. Into Bedford Falls. I was George Bailey, diligently working alongside Mr. Gower at the pharmacy. As an undiagnosed ADHD human, I'd perfected the art of people-pleasing to make up for all my other flaws. I was good at being a good girl. I gave Mr. Smith no trouble. In my version of It's A Wonderful Life, I wouldn’t have had the guts to tell him that what he put in the pills was poison and the child with diphtheria would have died.
We Didn’t Do Whip-Its
When I worked night shifts with Ray, the camera pointed at us was ON. At least for the first ninety minutes of our shift, until it was time for Ray to set up the ladder under the camera, climb it and without ever missing, throw a dish towel over its electronic eye.
With the camera covered, Ray could walk through the back room and down to Mr. Smith's basement office to flip the switch. I always let him take the lead, resisting the urge to say, "But we'll get in trouble."
Once the camera was off, we hit play on the punk rock mixtape. Friends visited and lingered without buying anything. Smoking inside was mandatory by law back then, and we took turns puffing on Camel Lights with our freak friends, while the other handled the line of parents and kids waiting for their cones and cups. When our shift was over, the blinds went down, the boombox turned up, and we made frappes for our friends. It couldn't have been more innocent. But it felt so rebellious because we resisted the surveillance.
The thing with the camera was - it wasn't like Mr. Smith watched the tapes. Why would he? Money was never missing. Things were clean. No complaints from customers. If Mr. Smith did review the tapes, he'd have to watch for ninety minutes before realizing that that’s all that got recorded. I think Mr. Smith had better things to do, like fold his socks.
We Got Away With It
Because we outsmarted Mr. Smith? Maybe. Or maybe he knew exactly what we were up to but as long as we kept things running, he let us have our little rebellion.
To this day, the muscle on my right arm remains bigger than the muscle on my left. (Thanks to how grueling it is to try to scoop the hardest flavor in history, Pink Bubblegum.)
I know you want to see pictures from those days at Baskin Robbins. But there aren't any. Why would I bring a camera to work? As I joked on my last comedy album, "OK, Gen-X", if you had a camera in the nineties, you were a... photographer.
I do have a photo of these days.
This is a picture of my friend Isaac and me. We're in Paris for work. We're in a restaurant and he wanted me to leave this private upper room that I’d lead him to that we weren't supposed to be in. I thought it would make a cool photo, even if we got in trouble. The photo is cool. And we didn't get in trouble. I’m proud to be 50 now and still wearing fancy combat boots while breaking very minor rules.
Generation-X
If you’re a Gen-X like me, I know you totally remember those days of secondhand smoke everywhere and personal cameras nowhere. But you survived!! Show off your longevity with my Generation-X necklace. It’s on sale in my online shop for $21 and you can get it in time for Christmas!
