I Was a Chicken Sniffer

What exactly is a chicken sniffer? It was my very first paying job! When I was finishing my first year in college, the program I chose had some summer requirements. This first summer, I was assigned to work in a factory production line. It was 1964, and there were still plenty of jobs that had not yet been touched by automation. Of course, we could only find the most basic positions, as none of us had any skills that would enable us to have a better, more prestigious position. The idea behind the summer requirement was to meet, work and mingle with people we probably would never know or meet. It was assumed that our “entitlement” would have separated us from the general population coming from this private college in a very affluent area. In our chosen profession as educators, we had to learn how to deal with people from all walks of life.

Well, chicken sniffer was the only thing open to me because I wasn’t yet 18; this was required by law to work in a factory.

Each day, five days a week, I would report to the A&P supermarket in Queens, NY, go to the freezer and put on layers of warmth. I had the job of making the coffee for the butchers, number one. I would wait for the meat trucks to come in and go crate by crate, smelling each chicken. At times, it was close to nauseating. The odor of bad chicken will never leave my nostrils. The job itself was not taxing. It was obvious that I couldn’t lift the crates. All I had to do was sniff and pass or reject each piece of chicken. Most of the time, chickens were whole and plucked and eviscerated. I would sort any chicken parts that sometimes came separately. Once they passed my nose test, the butchers cut up chickens into quarters and eighths and left some whole.

Another part of the job was to answer the bell from customers outside the freezer when they had a particular question. I rarely could give the customers an answer. I had to refer most questions over to butchers immediately. The butchers were not happy with my presence. They called me “college girl” and rarely used my name. I think I finally won them over.

After explaining the job to my Dad, he started to pop in at different times on different days. He delighted in ringing that damn bell because he knew my head would pop up from the other side. Great, it added a little embarrassment to the job.

My pay was $21 a week. To spend almost the entire summer in the freezer netted me about $150. Was it worth it? Well, it got me to where I eventually wanted to be. I couldn’t eat chicken for a long time!

Chicken sniffer no more! Sophomore year. The requirement was community service.

The summer activity in 1964 was quite an improvement from the previous year. The problem was I would not be getting paid. Although I made next to nothing the summer before, it was better than zero!

I was assigned to take a group of intellectually disabled teenagers bowling! Twice a week, I would have to travel to Brooklyn.

They were bused to and from the bowling alley. I had to provide my own transportation. I used public transportation because I was still too young to drive in New York City. The alley's location was a bus and two subway trains each way.

My Mom was not happy that I had to travel the subway alone. It wouldn’t have been a problem then. I wouldn’t suggest a 17-year-old girl who probably looked like 12 try it alone today.

My Mom was a very quiet person. She didn't speak to strangers and never even asked someone for directions!

Surprisingly, a guy hit on HER on our first “trip” to Brooklyn. He wasn’t being rude or crude; he was just interested. My Mom became so flustered and started stuttering. I had to intervene and could not stop laughing. The look on her face was priceless. Since my mother never drove, that summer cost us a fortune. We had a taxi take us after that. I never really understood her concern until I became a mother myself.