Tor Samuelsen
English 101
Every day was bad. Usually we would work all day, sweating and covered in dirt. My boss would yell at us constantly, never letting up and grinding his directions into us. Nothing we ever did was good enough and everything was never done as quickly as he wanted. Doing construction 70 hours a week is monotonous and draining, it made me feel worthless and dumb, my boss made all his workers feel that way. At lunch and after work I would always go home or sit under a tree and read, it didn’t matter what I read, it just needed to make me think of something other than the situation I was in at the time. Every day was bad, but this day was worse. We had set up six stories of scaffolding and it had been very hot, and we worked through lunch and were constantly spraying ourselves with a hose to cool down. The sun was setting and we were nearly done when my boss asked me to take a load of concrete that was in his truck and go throw it all in a dumpster in some ally. Due to my being exhausted the I accidentally asked if I could do it tomorrow considering we were nearly done, that resulted in multiple handfuls on broken concrete being thrown at me. I took the keys and went and threw it all away. Feeling angry and absent minded I got back in the truck and put it in reverse, I looked backwards and floored it for about 15 feet until I smash directly into the front of a parked car. Luckily there were four police officers driving down the street when this happened, and from they’re obstructed view they believed it to be an accident. Feeling no regret or guilt I left my insurance information and an apology note on the car. I then drove back to the jobsite, parked the fairly damaged truck in front of everyone and gave the keys to my boss without saying anything, I went home shortly after that and sat at the kitchen table and started reading. A few hours later my dad came home and gave me a glass of water then sat down across from me and started reading. We didn’t talk, not about the truck, or the jobsite, or any similar events and trouble that I had gotten in the week before and the month before and all the years before that. When we are working he is not my dad he is my boss, and a tyrant. When we are at home is more like a friend than a father, and I think that’s easier for him, and maybe it’s easier for me as well. I don’t know what we would do if the both of us didn’t like reading, it offers an escape from reality and is constantly saving what we call a family from collapsing as it frequently approaches. That day might seem irregular but it isn’t, each day is often much worse. Without Steinbeck, Baldwin, or McCarthy I don’t think we would of been able to last. I don’t know if we love reading but they’re better for us than the alternative.