Where There’s Muck, There’s Brass

Abstract

When I was a kid working in the bread factory, my nemesis was dough. It was sticky and hard to remove and got everywhere. I got home with specks of dough in my hair. Every shift included a couple of hours of scraping dough off of machinery. I carried dough-scrapers in my back pocket. Sometimes a huge lump of dough would go flying someplace where it shouldn’t and gum up everything. I had dough nightmares.