larry laid his head on the cafeteria table. i don't really know the man, only the name on his shirt. his name could also be Joe, or Kevin, and he could just be playing a joke, but he didn't seem like he was in a joking mood. maybe Joe's/Kevin's shirt was in the dirty laundry. maybe joe's/kevin's name really is larry. i'm not calling him a liar, i just don't know him. i know he was tired. i was on break and done eating my apple that has been the usual this week. when joe/kevin/larry sat up, his eyes said it all. he is tired. he is very tired. he's probably been working at the plant, or doing jobs of equal strain for longer than i've been alive. so, he hasn't been living for longer than i've been alive, because i think once you start working at this place, you start to die. it sucks the life right out of you. in order to get some fresh air, you need to rent a smoker's jacket, and go to this pavillion, where you can light up. by the time you've gone through the process you don't even have time for a smoke. i don't smoke. larry's/joe's/kevin's eyes were very tired. i don't even know if he's married. if not, he doesn't have much to fight for, so he just works to get the money to get the things that he kind of needs. i don't even know him. he could be very happy. he might even have this life figured out better than most, it's just those eyes make him seem like he's got the weight of the world bearing down on him. maybe it's just the weight of millions of tons of lasagna noodles. stouffer's.
i had an easy job one day. Fabio was training me. i was filling trays with lasagna noodles. low stess job. doctor's orders. not really, i don't even have doctor, and i haven't even "always wanted to say that." i asked him how full the trays should be. the nature of his instructions were less than specific. "not too much , not too little." that's how i filled them up. not too much. not too little.
lots of the hispanic women wear perfume to work, which scent reminds me of my father's mother. she was an amazing lady. she's our yellow rose of texas.
stay in school kids. stouffer's will kill you.
4 comments:
Sounds like Stouffer's is pretty rough. Hang in there. Loved the entry. I almost didn't recognize you in the picture because your jeans were baggy. :) Was this taken recently?
you should write a book. your thoughts are so deep. almost as deep as your love. for..me. but really, youre a good writer.
yeah you are a good writer, and you can place the noodles in my lasanga any day
This one made me laugh really hard, I wish you would have made friends with larry/kevin/joe because maybe he would have wanted to hang out with us at Lib Square, maybe not, he prob had better things to do. I wish you write a book so I coudl read it when I am sad.
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