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Show 93 He would bring T.V. dinners, heat them up on a press, and have them along with his sandwiches. Before work he would eat Italian down at Tony's and on his way home after work I know he usually stopped for a quick hamburger. But he wouldn't blame his Linda for any of it. She was getting better looking every day, he said. It was just that the diet made her irritable. The diet explained a lot of things, he said. The last time I saw her her hair was frosted and up in a bouffant, but she still looked like a wrestler to me. So I'm thinking about all these things and trying not to as I work down the line, filling my baskets with lens caps and nipples and heels, when I realize I've fallen behind. Donny wasn't saying anything, but it had thrown off the blues and that's no good, so I picked it up. I was a little better, those extra aspirin must have hit home, and it didn't take me long to catch up and we were in perfect synch again. Of course that also meant I was looking at Donny's miserable face every time we opened our presses but this time I get to thinking about Florida and what it would be like heading ten or twenty miles out into the Atlantic every morning and we were just cruising coming down on the supper break, half way home. We were making good time and we all knew it. About seven I put my jar of chili on my press without even breaking stride and by seven-thirty it was good and hot. You can't actually cook anything on the presses, just warm stuff up. It took Donny's T.V. dinners the whole four hours to get there and then sometimes they were still soggy, but that night when we shut down |