How Did a Youngster Break The Law By Working Too Many Hours?

 Polly Davis Cafeteria in downtown Miami was the echo chamber for Miami pursuits' politics played high ball in those meaty surroundings. It was D-Day and I became a part-time waitress. My tongue lolled but I couldn't resist those inch-high layers of icing atop already gigantic slices of yellow cake. If you worked 48, instead of part-time, you got to eat three meals there. Polly Davis increased my girth, I had enough presence to grow my worth. 

D-Day was the talk of the world so I escaped scrutiny. The next day I came down with the measles so I quit work.

When I went to work for The Miami News as a young society reporter, I quit college and never regretted it.
Early on, I learned you need to ask questions to learn something. Mom sewed my sheath-jackets. When Emilio Pucci was guest of honor of Junior League, he said, touching my arm, "Whose is it?" (When I covered the Kennedy White House, I learned that lesson. "Whose is it?" names the designer. Since my mother was Lilly Nielsen, I told him it's a Lilly.He said he admired the line.

I had no fears, just being myself because I was interested in what people wore and said and that became my whole life standing. Pay three honest compliments in a day and you'll never be lonely.

Lots of life beckoned the social set; Miami in the 50's was the Nifty 50s.I'm still writing -and do- while my contemporaries abide in anecdotage.