Thursday, August 23, 2007

I Have A Job

Whew!

What a day!

My alarm was set for 5 a.m. this morning. At 6:15 I was down at (Hard) Labor Ready for my job assignment today. And fortune smiled upon me. I let the (Hard) Labor Ready folks know that I absolutely positively had to be in Montgomeryville at 5 p.m. That meant that I was ineligible for the job they had planned for me, so I pulled another gig up in Souderton, a lot closer to home. And it turned out to be a good one, working with a father and son team putting together office cubicle partitions for a manufacturer of retractable awnings.

Ah, Souderton! A place I've never been before. I knew it was there, somewhere north of Perkasie, another place I've never been. But I never had much reason to go. Before today.

And what kind of a place is Souderton? Let me just say this. I was given a lunch break today, so I headed up the street to a pizza place. Y'know how in pizza parlors they tend to have paintings on the wall... ummm... make that "paintings" on the wall showing the harbor at Napoli or whatever? Well Sophie's Pizza in Souderton has a "art" depicting the Castle at Neuschwanstein in Bavaria up on the wall.

And the faces I saw, in the pizza parlor, at the manufacturer of retractable awnings... sehr aus Deutschland! It was a little disconcerting when they spoke and it came out in English.

The father and son team were great to work with, and there was plenty to do so the day went by quickly.

I think the mood has officially lifted. We can set the time fairly accurately at 5:20 a.m. this morning, Thursday the 23rd of August. It was still dark when I got up. The sky was just starting to glow behind the trees when I was walking Faithful Companion. There's something especially compelling about heading off to work that early, being a dawn-rising Knight of Labor. Like Trace Adkins sings, "Up with the sun, out on the run, making moneymoney cuz I like to have fun."

And I was actually whistling as I set off to (Hard) Labor Ready.

I'm softening considerably in my stance to (Hard) Labor Ready. For one thing, I'm a star there. They love me. And after months of "Eh," that sure feels good. And I'm not the sole white guy. (I didn't really think that I was.) There are a few bedraggled older guys, and one red-headed stunner that I bet looks pretty damn good without his Dickie's on. He sure looks good in them.

And then there's... Yesterday, I was waiting in vain for a job to be called in. A team came back from some other job. One of the group was this young Irish looking kid. I first noticed him because he was wearing a pair of nylon warm-up pants, verrrrrry low on his but, just about showing his asscrack. (Asscrack is the new cleavage.) So (Hard) Labor Ready folks were greeting the Conquering Heroes, asking them how the job went, eliciting the expected non-committal mumbles. Asscrack breathed a deep and dramatic sigh and declared, "I have got to find myself a Sugar Daddy."

So not only am I not the only white guy, I'm not even the only white homo.

Although I don't doubt that his chances of finding a Sugar Daddy are so much better than mine, old broken down tired workhorse that I am.

And the work was good today, and as promised, I was on the road headed for Ho(t)me(n) Depot in plenty of time.

On my way into the store, I passed one of my soon to be fellow employees heading out, going off shift. He stood about 5'8", arms like pythons, beautiful ink, beautiful auburn beard, an ass like something you'd see on a statue in the Greek Antiquities rooms at the Met. I wonder if he'll remember this day as "The Day My Stalker Showed Up"?

I zigned all zee papers and officially became a Sales Associate with Ho(t)me(n) Depot. I start on Monday. Two weeks from tomorrow I'll get my first paycheck.

I also gave some guidelines for scheduling me to work. And those choices were totally informed by television: No Monday nights because that's when "Heroes" is on, and no Thursday nights because that's when "Mad Men" is on.

Alas, I'm only getting twenty-four hours a week from Ho(t)me(n) Depot. The way I figure it, that will pay my bills. For money for lattés, cigars, groceries and such, I'll need to get work at (Hard) Labor Ready.

I'll make it work.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You should tell him that there may not be much sugar, but you'll be his Daddy. ;)

Hooray job! Now I can uncramp my crossed fingers!