T-ness & R-ability are qualities ascribed to people but there’s no reason they can’t be applied to machines, T in particular «a kind of knowing» and it’s actually harder to trust people because they’re unpredictable…
So when June’s mama drove off the twisty mountain road that rainy spring midnight after drinking herself into a starry stupor at the Thirsty Stallion, June took it as an omen of magical things to come.
“You’re saying you’re not available at all on Tuesday, then? You’re certain there’s no wiggle room there?”
“No, I’ll be unavailable that whole day, and every day after that.”
Oh, those hands – they sifted fall soybeans and pinched them to gauge the moisture content. They tugged wet cornstalks from the corn head, they wielded hoes, shovels, hammers. They patted the dog and held the child, circled the waist of the woman he loved.
There were twelve long rumbling lines and dozens of workers, with a catwalk overhead where a floor supervisor languidly prowled making sure we were all hustling and hurling. At the top of the hour the whistle blew and we had five minutes to use the toilet or sit down and rest.
I know that today was payday because your wallet bulges from the back pocket of your dusty Wal-Mart jeans. I know that your truck smells like sweat, like taco meat, like recently sprayed $5.99 musk for men because it was on sale. It’ll mask the smell of honest work, the smell of hunger, the smell of indiscretion.
Someone called me late in the evening to let me know. My last obligation here was finally dying. I walked out into the night, down the shoulder of the highway toward the nursing facility, and on the ground, the partially evaporated crust of brittle snow. When I crunched through it, the neighbor’s dog started barking […]
“So, well done?” I roll my eyes, digging my heels into the sole of the too-small shoes that grow hills on my toes. I got here this morning at 7:45 AM, the typical start time for an Opener, and now it’s 6:45 PM with no end in sight. I need the extra money, but I’m […]