Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - Me inside / my own factotum

8

The job was demanding. Not incompatible but awful none-the-less. I have a strong back and legs. No one has ever told me that I have the spine of a crocodile even though I am still waiting for that compliment. I knew to use this car wash job as cardio training for wrestling school. I wore a stupid hat with the name of the company pressed on over the bill, white button up shirt, black khakis and white sneakers. Not one of my better looks nor experiences.
 "GLENN! What you do?!"
A fiendish yell on the first day of work by a dark skinned dyke named Edith.
 "I'm sorry?" I asked.
 "YOU! No stand this place NO! YOU WORK!"
 "I'm sorry Edith I do not understand." I said as I stuck my hands out apart from each other in confusion.
The he/she pointed to the trunks and cars waiting next to the other sets of vacuums. If this is the 2007 American work force then i'm going home to do a back flip off of my roof into a pool of broken glass.
Edith's face matched her disgusting personality. It's only day 1 and I already want to quit. She began yelling at me with such ferocity that spit was flying out of her mouth.
 "Listen! You NO LISTEN! Vacuum YOU! No stand still get work!"
I learned with her nonsensical jabbering that I have to run to every vehicle that pulls up if that vehicle is not already being cleaned out and grab a hose and get to work. As I drag the vacuum around in circles on a car seat I see in the corner of my eye daffodils that seemed to looked like a hyper bright yellowish color. They ignited within the musk of irrefutable trash, scratching the insides of the front glass window.
 "Faster! Faster! Andele! Rapido!"
This monster of a woman will not break me in. They will not use their baseball bats to break into my fort knox. This job is doable and I will force it.
When my other supervisor came up to me to let me know it was time for lunch I had a large plate full of nothing. Slowly walked my way to the lunch area which was reserved only for paying customers and sat down next to the window where I could see the cars piling in. Pulled out a black pen I had in my breast pocket and grabbed a napkin sitting by it's lonesome on the small time I sat at. With a sore wrist I began moving that pen to write out the beginning of a poem:
    
        "Brotherhood of the envious,
  lay down you're pride, as a coat, under red
                  moonlight.
                        I..."
 "Yo! Scoot over homes! Juan needs a place to kick his feet back. Open up this cups of hot noodles & relax."
I noticed that this coworker lightly tossed in chopped up jalapenos & spicy sauce on top of his noodles.
 "Hi, i'm Glenn." I said.
 "Guuueeehn?"
There is no Spanish translation for my name. After introducing myself a few times I told everyone but Mr. Eric to call me Juan or Juanero. Through the weeks I would take a thick black sharpie and mark 'Juan' on my lunch sacks before heading into work.
Pulled through the shift on no fuel but a headache and desire and a prayer to the devil along with singing old songs with verses dancing in my head. I walked home with my hand on the side of my hip. I was completely dazed.
 "Alright Glenn!" Mother said as I walked in. "How was your first day of work?"
I didn't have the energy to answer her question all I could do was walk to the refrigerator and poured 4 cups of 2% milk that I downed in a row. Water wasn't my drink and I sat in my brothers room with a bad stomach ache.

Author's Note

None