Posted Sun Sep 13, 2015 | 353 Words | Tagged story workie

I was heading out to lunch, having to pass the endless mess of construction on the way. It just seemed to never end, each week there just seemed to be more and more construction. Slowly building things, and never really going away.

I had to wait while a tractor carrying some bricks pulled out so I could get passed when I felt something on my head. I put a hand up to my head and felt a plastic hard hard on my head. I pulled my hand away slightly confused and saw my hand was covered in muck from the helmet.

I turned around to see one of the builders seemingly having a laugh but when I wanted to question him, I couldn’t say anything. He did stink of sweat and was dressed up with a hi-vis jacket which looked like it had seen better days.

He then pulled out a sock from his hi-vis jacket and pulled it around my mouth and then motioned me to follow him towards the container-ship portable office. There he got out another dirty hi-vis jacket and told me to put it on. I don’t know why but I did as I was told.

He then took the sock off, gave me the other and told me to put them on. They looked disgusting, but it was what I had to do. He gave me a pair of boots which were worn and old as well.

Then I was taken out and put to work on the building site. Laying bricks and concrete all day. It was hard work and for someone like me who wasn’t very athletic or had any strength or muscle I seemed to manage.

I got home at last and got to the bathroom and thought of having a shower. I caught a look at myself in the mirror, and lifted up my shirt, now full of dry sweat. I was pretty muscular and my face looked more attractive than ever. My jeans looked a bit worn as well now.

Loved my job on the construction site, good money for someone like me.