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Show He said I was full of shit but after a minute he headed over to the time clock to find out for sure. I was glad to be left alone. This time the aspirin wasn't doing a damn thing. My legs felt like concrete that's just being made, especially up high in my thighs, and my fingers felt like they'd been stomped on. I took a couple more aspirin and wandered back out to the machines. What had they been fighting about this time? I couldn't keep myself from thinking about it and I couldn't help but feel sorry for Donny, being stuck with a woman like her. He's only been married about a year, which is about how long I've lived with my Linda, but when I first started working for Ontawa way back then Donny was sure a lot happier. They put him on my press with me at first, to show me the ropes, and he was real decent about it even though it cut into his bonus time. We never talked much, though, until I happened to mention my Linda's name. "Same as my wife's," he said, and I remember this big grin on his face and him thumping me on the back like that made us brothers or something. After that he would bend my ear every day about her, how she had fixed him a whole veal dinner-which is what a lot of the guys do, just heat something up right on their press-or how she had made him a shirt, because it was hard for him to find anything big enough uptown, or how he had let her choose the color of the pickup they were going to buy and she had picked a terrible mustard yellow but it was what she wanted and wasn't that funny. I never said much but |
