to the school. Can’t you help him?”
“Carl, people take different paths. School’s not for everyone,” I assure him.
“Yes, but he does drugs, he smokes cocaine. I fucking work my ass off in this factory and that kid just lays around and smokes the junk.”
I’m thinking to myself, Carl, your problems with this kid are just starting, but I say, “Yeah, it’s tough. Let me think about it a little, Carl.”
Now I have to speak with Carl, but I’m determined to keep this conversation to the absolute minimum. I’m just not going to get roped in today. Carl sees me walk in and beelines right up to me. I can see he wants to unload, so I act fast. I blurt out, “Carl, I’m in a bit of a hurry and Sev asked me to double-check these numbers from last night. He thinks there may be an error.”
Carl takes the spreadsheet from my hand and examines the stats for a minute and then says, “Same numbers as always, no error. I do this room for seven and a half years and I know the numbers. No error.”
I ask him if he’s sure, and he is. I take the spreadsheet back from him and say, “Okay, thanks Carl.” I give a hard look at the spreadsheet, and I’m thinking Carl’s probably right. The numbers are in the same zone as any shift.
I’m confused. Why did Sev have me check these numbers? I’m walking away when Carl barks, “Kevin, I need to talk with you about my son.”
“Sorry, Carl, I can’t make it today. Sev has my ass all over the place and I’m already behind.”
“Yes, but yesterday the police take my son. They arrest him. I need to know what to do. Please.”
I’m almost at the door when I stop. I turn and look at Carl with his gaunt pale complexion and wrinkled face. Something about a father worried shitless angers and touches me in a strange way. Carl is a weird guy, but I’m actually jealous of his kid. It’s nice to have a father worried beyond belief about you. What a cock, to have a father and push him off the deep end. “Carl, I’ll come back later and we’ll see what we can do.”
The day goes by. I don’t get over to Carl like I promised and I feel pretty shitty about it. First thing in the morning, I call a friend who is interning for a lawyer who specializes in drug cases. He gives me his boss’s name and number. I bring it over to Carl and tell him I’ll check in with him and see how I can help.
Monitoring Carl’s numbers was a bullshit move; they were fine. But that was the first of several expeditions. Sev sends me on more of these wild goose chases to check on numbers he knows are right. Sev isn’t around much at all these days and when I do see him, it’s all short answers to my questions. He’s not pulling me into meetings any more or explaining different things. He definitely has me on ice. I didn’t say anything or do anything to get him heated, and even if I did, he’s never hesitated to let me know before. What the fuck is his problem?
The cold shoulder has been going on for a week now, with no end in sight. In my head I’m saying that Sev can screw himself. I’m here for three more weeks and then it’s back to school. I say it to myself, but I don’t really buy it. I like Sev and I miss spending time with him. Watching him operate is the one real pleasure I have in this place. I wonder if there’s an exit to Sev’s doghouse.
I buy lunch from the sandwich truck. I’m sitting down in the cafeteria when Bino blesses me with his pasty face. He’s standing right across from me. As soon as I unwrap the plastic I get a whiff of the turkey sandwich and there’s a 50-50 chance this thing is rank. It’s always a coin toss with the truck. I’m laughing to myself that I got this pale white turkey with a rotten smell and Bino is right here looking at me. The similarities are remarkable.
“Yo, Balducci wants to talk to you,” Bino barks at me. “And be careful with that sandwich. Sometimes the plastic wrap can be
“Carl, people take different paths. School’s not for everyone,” I assure him.
“Yes, but he does drugs, he smokes cocaine. I fucking work my ass off in this factory and that kid just lays around and smokes the junk.”
I’m thinking to myself, Carl, your problems with this kid are just starting, but I say, “Yeah, it’s tough. Let me think about it a little, Carl.”
Now I have to speak with Carl, but I’m determined to keep this conversation to the absolute minimum. I’m just not going to get roped in today. Carl sees me walk in and beelines right up to me. I can see he wants to unload, so I act fast. I blurt out, “Carl, I’m in a bit of a hurry and Sev asked me to double-check these numbers from last night. He thinks there may be an error.”
Carl takes the spreadsheet from my hand and examines the stats for a minute and then says, “Same numbers as always, no error. I do this room for seven and a half years and I know the numbers. No error.”
I ask him if he’s sure, and he is. I take the spreadsheet back from him and say, “Okay, thanks Carl.” I give a hard look at the spreadsheet, and I’m thinking Carl’s probably right. The numbers are in the same zone as any shift.
I’m confused. Why did Sev have me check these numbers? I’m walking away when Carl barks, “Kevin, I need to talk with you about my son.”
“Sorry, Carl, I can’t make it today. Sev has my ass all over the place and I’m already behind.”
“Yes, but yesterday the police take my son. They arrest him. I need to know what to do. Please.”
I’m almost at the door when I stop. I turn and look at Carl with his gaunt pale complexion and wrinkled face. Something about a father worried shitless angers and touches me in a strange way. Carl is a weird guy, but I’m actually jealous of his kid. It’s nice to have a father worried beyond belief about you. What a cock, to have a father and push him off the deep end. “Carl, I’ll come back later and we’ll see what we can do.”
The day goes by. I don’t get over to Carl like I promised and I feel pretty shitty about it. First thing in the morning, I call a friend who is interning for a lawyer who specializes in drug cases. He gives me his boss’s name and number. I bring it over to Carl and tell him I’ll check in with him and see how I can help.
Monitoring Carl’s numbers was a bullshit move; they were fine. But that was the first of several expeditions. Sev sends me on more of these wild goose chases to check on numbers he knows are right. Sev isn’t around much at all these days and when I do see him, it’s all short answers to my questions. He’s not pulling me into meetings any more or explaining different things. He definitely has me on ice. I didn’t say anything or do anything to get him heated, and even if I did, he’s never hesitated to let me know before. What the fuck is his problem?
The cold shoulder has been going on for a week now, with no end in sight. In my head I’m saying that Sev can screw himself. I’m here for three more weeks and then it’s back to school. I say it to myself, but I don’t really buy it. I like Sev and I miss spending time with him. Watching him operate is the one real pleasure I have in this place. I wonder if there’s an exit to Sev’s doghouse.
I buy lunch from the sandwich truck. I’m sitting down in the cafeteria when Bino blesses me with his pasty face. He’s standing right across from me. As soon as I unwrap the plastic I get a whiff of the turkey sandwich and there’s a 50-50 chance this thing is rank. It’s always a coin toss with the truck. I’m laughing to myself that I got this pale white turkey with a rotten smell and Bino is right here looking at me. The similarities are remarkable.
“Yo, Balducci wants to talk to you,” Bino barks at me. “And be careful with that sandwich. Sometimes the plastic wrap can be
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