Warehouse

Don't mean to be one-eyed, just know things from the male view. Will was grateful to be there on his first day, or, to be anywhere. Either you are somewhere, or, you're invisible, a sort of half-death.

When a man has a job, he feels connected to the busy real world. There's motivated blood pumping. Conversely, when a man has no job, he feels on the other side of the glass, dependent, uncertain.

Waking each morning becomes a rude greeting of apprehension, worry for breakfast, gulp down more coffee, figure out your next move. Nowhere to go, friends aren't home, except your dear elderly neighbors, long past their working years, always home.

Men can value their dignity with currencies of silent endurance, patience, hope. Swallow the pain, whatever happens, it's just a warehouse, two-wheeler, and trucks, endless trucks to unload.

Now, hold your head steady for the putrid men's room mirror, your hands on each side: you'll get thru this first shift, no matter what, because it's just real good to be somewhere, Will thought again.