Author: tq1695

It was like being on parole –
everybody in the workplace knew, 
knew I hadn’t quite met the standard –
was the least unsuitable –
was on a renewable contract: performance dependent. 
The days went quickly,
work fixed and flexible
50% on projects ….
50% spare part – where needed. And when.

Different people, different standards, different expectations ….
most are kind,
some offhand,
others distant.

By rotation I am assigned to Paul. 
We are the same age.
Both in first workplace.
Both from education –
me university, him high school.
His father works here too.
We talk questions – where and when – no who. Not yet.

New waters are too shallow to floatfor conversation 
but
self esteem has a prepared speech …
about his father,
and his father’s friendship with the director.

Confession :
Insider trading. He wants me to know. He knows I already do.

Absolution
“I started as a temporary – digging out stumps – I’ve proved myself.”

Exculpation
“I don’t work with my old man … most days I don’t even see my old man.”

‘Son of,’
a disfiguring birthmark he can’t not announce.
Or renounce.
Or let uniform cover, 
or stop picking.
Sympathy thinks dog and lampshade
and resolves never to emit the odour of nepotism.
One evening beer soaked tongues confide my nickname –
“ the lucky bastard.” – conferred by Paul.

Photograph always resembled Halloween ghoul
or spotlighted animals,
but this one drew no laughter.
Perhaps the light.

Or photographer :
slim and dark,
ethereal,
attractive rather than pretty,
distinctive –
eyes widely spaced, like headlights of a Buick or Fairlane.
I had seen her in church – loved her by distance.

An almost studio at the rear of pharmacy
a screen pulled down … 
light made to behave, to be quiet.

“Passport?”
Chance can’t believe its luck
delighted to announce it is for the staffboard –
to explain attendance at a conference,
meant absence when the official photographer called.

The five senses.
Smell. The scent of opportunity.
Touch. Hands turn shoulders and head
Taste. Mouth dry.
Sight. Dark + woman
Sound. Heartbeat + “ smile! + $5 – thank you.”

Five dollars when six dollars was an hour’s work.
Admin accepts photograph and receipt –
they will pay me later.
Protocol fulfilled, reimbursement never did.
Anxiety to please didn’t pursue …
didn’t want to seem mean or petty.
No matter,
the photograph is on the board in reception,
with name and title.
Feeling : million dollar. Cost : five. A steal.

Apart from unprompted, unrelated statements
“I don’t like strawberries.”
 ….. “my wife prefers to drive the Ford.”
Kevin was good to work with.

Plodding and patient
beige overalls pillowed by midlife
face creased with perma smile –
teddy bear always came to mind.
A welder in a past life,
no formal training as a science technician,
“ but there you go ”
The director had a few acres
rumour claimed his water supply was curtesy of Kevin.
It may not have been true
but ….
it was that kind of town.

Mission statement
to assist development of new crops beneficial to the region.

Bulbs for export –
can it work?
It’s up to us.
Three days per week, for several weeks, I assist him.
One break time
he brings his tea to where I am sitting.
No preamble
“ it looks like the bulbs are a goer.”
No summary. Only conclusion
“ have to find something else to do now.”

Real-life success.
I pedal home feeling 19 foot tall.