After I finish wrestling with a kettle to maneuver it against the wall, I walk over to the phone and dial 75531 with out even looking. My fingers play the phone like a piano. I happen to think it looks like a Mardi Gras parade float, but Nick has dubbed it Christmas Tree. As soon as some come out. I half-laugh at how pathetic he sounds and smile.
Quality time spent with one's coworkers in a smoky haze but at least the breakroom has windows.
Not that windows let in much light at night, but during the day shift it's a nice reminder that there was still life on the outside. My crew is an interesting bunch. I didn't usually participate in their lunchtime bitching sessions about Kodak or ex-wives or lawn care. I prefer to eavesdrop while I pretend to do the word jumble in the paper or watch television. You can really learn a lot about a person by listening to his breakroom conversations.