I could have turned around. Could have said, “I make more than some engineers.” Could have told him how fast his world would fall apart without the work of people like me.
Instead, I picked up a container of fried chicken, added mashed potatoes, and walked to the checkout.
I always figured it was best to let my work speak for itself.
Of course, the man and his kid ended up in front of me in line.
The father stood straight and easy, dangling a set of shiny SUV keys on his finger. He never looked back at me, but the boy… he was different.
His world would fall apart without the work of people like me.
He kept glancing back at my hands.
There was a look in his eyes, something I couldn’t decipher. It was like he was trying to understand something.
The father was unloading sparkling water and fancy granola bars onto the belt when his phone rang. He looked annoyed before he even answered it.
“What?” he snapped.
A pause.
He kept glancing back at my hands.
Then, louder, “What do you mean it’s still down?”
The cashier slowed a little. The woman behind me stopped pretending not to listen.
“Didn’t I already tell you to get someone to patch it? I need that line running immediately!”
Pause.
His voice dropped to a low growl. “What do you mean they can’t fix it?”
Whatever the answer was, it landed hard.
He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t see why this is so difficult. No! We can’t risk contamination. The losses would be huge, and we’ve lost enough money already.”
“What do you mean they can’t fix it?”
He listened for a few more seconds, then said, “Call whoever you need to call. I don’t care what it costs. Just get it handled.”
He hung up and stood there for a second, staring at nothing.
The kid asked, “What happened?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said too quickly. “Just work. We’ll have to stop at the factory before we head home.”
The kid’s eyes lit up. “Sure.”
“I don’t care what it costs. Just get it handled.”
