New Hire

Stability

The porch Bobby DiSalvo sat on with his grandpa as a kid used to look out on the Spartan River.

Now it looked at the back of a condo complex with just a sliver of river peeking out between the buildings.

Geno DiSalvo knew a few magic tricks, one that involved lighting two paper matches with his thumb, the second match not igniting until the crease Geno put in it began to slacken and it raised off his old callused hand.

None of his magic tricks had involved money or wealth, but Geno liked to talk about those subjects a lot. 

Bobby came to tell his grandfather that he had been hired by ValleyTech, where Geno had worked for 39 years before he took a buyout.

“What job?” Geno asked.

“Packout line, shipping logistics,” Bobby said. “Basically making sure the terminal end of the line has enough dunnage to move the finished 860s to the–”

“I know what it compasses,” Geno said, lazily leaving off the first syllable of the word and not smiling. “What shift?”

“Second.”

Geno smiled the same smile he smiled when he was about to show his grandkids a magic trick they had seen before.

“Get on third as soon as you can,” Geno said. “The shift premium is better, aaaaannnnd…” Geno dragged out the and like it was a drumroll “The Frosty Head Pub opens at 7am. All the Ascension nightshift nurses drink there in the morning. Nurses make great money and never, ever get laid off. You know Eddie Kazcmek’s wife? She’s a little old for you but she’s got tits like medicine balls. He met her at the Frosty when he was on third shift.”

Bobby laughed, softly and shook his head.

“You’re already trying to marry me off?”

Geno spit through his teeth.

“I just don’t trust Valley, don’t trust that industry. Go get you a nurse with big tits for some stability.”

Bobby thought for a minute about asking his grandfather to teach him the paper match magic trick. He was 19, old enough now, and if he burned himself his mom couldn’t really be mad at Grandpa. He was an adult, made his own decisions.

“I… umm, Gramps… I…don’t like big tits.”

Geno spit again.

“Then get you a girl with small tits. Heaven’s sake, that’s probably easier.”

Geno laughed a rumbling little pack-a-day laugh.

Bobby heated up a little, felt a hot breeze from within climb his neck, exit his body, then slap back against him.

“I don’t really like any tits, Gramps, per se.”

Geno DiSalvo’s head turned slowly toward his grandson.

If Bobby ever had grandchildren, he would have liked to be able to tell them he held his grandfather’s heavy gaze, but he could not.

He looked down at the cars in the condo lot, cars way nicer than anything his grandfather ever owned.

He was already starting to rationalize not liking his grandfather, not caring what Grandpa thought or what he said.

Geno spit between his teeth a third time, a big arcing spit that could have come from a small lawn sprinkler.

“Your first day, put in for first shift. You won’t get it, because you don’t have shit for seniority. But your request will go on record early and that will break any hire date ties. Get on first shift, that’s a more normal existence.”

Bobby flinched at the word normal.

Geno took a pull from the NA beer between his legs. Doctor wouldn’t let him drink anymore.

“Get on first shift,” Geno repeated. He paused, took a breath.

“Look at me, Bobby.”

Bobby shifted his chair at an angle to force himself to make eye contact with his grandfather, who stuttered a bit, but didn’t blink.

“I’m pretty sure Gary Lennox who runs building maintenance is quee- ummm…elbeeegee…ummm, I’m pretty positive he’s gay. Get to know him. Good guy to know regardless. But you never know. It’s all about stability. Those management assholes never get laid off.”

***

***Ever had to divulge a secret to a relative?

***Ever WANTED to divulge a secret to a relative but couldn’t?

***Anyone ever tell you anything about themselves that shocked you?

There are 680 stories just waiting to be read. And you get a new one every day.

It’s like having an indie bookstore right in your inbox.

Photo Courtesy of Getty Images