In the Lyrics
“Stevie has me mopping floors,” I huff into the receiver of my cell phone, annoyed that I had to take this job. The plus side is Dusty and Hensley both work here. So in reality it’s not that bad, despite the fact that I smell like a walking French fry when I leave every night. Not many people can say they work with their friends.
I hold my phone up with my shoulder so I can use both hands to push the mop, as Dusty says, “Just come out when you’re done. I’ll ride with Hensley. No biggie.”
“All right, sounds good. I wanna shower first so I don’t smell like this damn place.” Sniffing the air around me, it smells of hamburgers and dirty mop water. The mix isn’t a pleasant one, trust me on that.
“All right, dude, see ya…”
“Wait,” I stop him before he has a chance to hang up. “Would you mind telling Hensley I’m gonna be late?” We’ve been in kind of a strange place lately. Not that I have to check in with her or let her know I’m coming, but I want to.
He laughs.
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