Right after the big war, which I had won nearly single handed, I left Boeing in spite of their pleas and my promise to never drive my fork lift truck on the soft asphalt portion of the airport runway near the hangar.

And I was looking around for an occupation.

I had three little kids and had once worked after high school at a big department store helping a crew dress windows.

I figured I knew how to do that and printed up some business cards that read “Window Dresser: We Create Displays That Sell."

I handed them out when I walked door to door in downtown Renton, White Center, Des Moines and Burien. I did not go to West Seattle because I was driving a 1928 DeSoto with a leaking radiator and that was a long way from home in case I had to walk.

Wonder of wonders, one day I got a call. This man needed someone to glaze the big windows on the street level floor of Seattle's Smith Tower. He also asked me to cover some tables with crepe paper. He was going to sell some things, I guess.

I bought a roll of crepe paper, some thumb tacks and figured a clever way to frost the windows was to rub some canned beer on them and when it dried they would be opaque. Sounded reasonable to me.

So I did it. The place smelled like a Skid Row tavern but I figured it would smell okay by morning.

At nine ayem the phone rang. It was my customer. He was shouting. He accused me of having a wild party. The place stank of beer. I had ruined him financially and lots of luck and prepare for a lawsuit.

He was so angry I just put my pillow over my head and prepared for a visit from some police with big dogs.

I waited for three days. I considered leaping off a bridge and then the mailman came with an envelope. It was from my former customer.

Wallaah!, there was a check for $15. Wow! Wow! Wow!

There was also one of my business cards. He had changed some words. Now it read in capital letters--"WE CREATE DISPLAYS THAT SMELL."