I'm sitting at the warehouse in Compton waiting for a large box from China filled with Carabeans and duct tape. The people here are different. Heavy lifting, hard working, rough and tumble type dudes with big trucks and boots with laces and steel toes. Sounds kinda hot when I write it down, but somehow at the time it wasn't.
These men all think I'm silly. I'm the only woman for miles, and I'm sitting in my car eating gluten free banana bread and sipping a soy latte while I wait for the man with the fork lift to bring me my box. I smile and say good morning when they stare at me, but can't decide if this is a good idea or not. Oh well.
Then I see him. Early 30's, baggy jeans, tight fade, big earrings. He's walking toward the enormous opening of the warehouse and spitting. Constantly. I counted him spitting at least 6 times in the 100 foot walk from his truck. Not big honking spits from chewing tobacco, just little spits, like he's peeing on the bushes. Letting the other truckers know who's boss. How could he possibly have so much excess saliva? Does he do that all day long? Does his girlfriend want to kill him when he does it at the movies or outside a restaurant? I couldn't stop staring. Then I scanned the other dudes to see if they did it too...and they did! Maybe that's what I was missing...The yoga pants and flip flops would be more macho if I were spitting. Noted.
Maybe next time I'll just spring for delivery...
