In the early 90’s I lost my regular job because I was touring, so I ended up working for a day labor place.
I was part of a crew that had to take down an outdoor tennis court bubble. It wasn’t the usual crew I worked with, these guys looked like they were gathered up in some kind of bum sweep. They were mostly in their mid to late forties and most of them seemed like they had fallen on hard times. The boss of the job lined us up and started to explain the job. It was simple but back breaking work, mainly a lot of scrubbing to clean the bubble before putting it back in storage. As he was explaining a guy in the back started yelling curses, “I’ll split you guys into three teams of” “FUCK! FUCKFUCK!” “three teams of eight and then you’ll” “SHITFUCKCUNTSHIT!” “Alright, what the hell is goin’ on!” The cursing guy looked like a hobo version of Yosemite Sam from Bugs Bunny, only without the hat and guns. A guy who was next to the curser ran up to the boss and started to plead his case, “Look man, that’s my brother, he’s got tourette’s, he didn’t mean nothin’.” Of course the boss was dubious, who wouldn’t be. This guy knew it was shitty, low paying work and he didn’t exactly have the best and the brightest on the job. It was kind of like the Tourette’s guy was speaking for all of us, this job deserved a steady stream of expletives. We finally got to work and Tourette’s guy was still cursing but mostly at a low level, “(mumbling)..motherfuckerfuckassshitshitcuntfuckercockfuckshitshitassfuck…” The work was just as wretched as described and the other workers were piss poor. It was like getting mental patients to weave baskets only more strenuous, actually most of the others did seem medicated so maybe I wasn’t so far off base with the mental patient thing. It got really hot in the afternoon and a few of the guys took off their shirts including Tourette’s guy and, Holy Shit! It looked like his ass went halfway up his back. He had a horrible deep scar that ran in a direct line from the top of his ass to the middle of his back. When I was a kid, one of our stupid homemade insults was to say that somebody was such a big asshole that he had to take off his shirt to shit. Here I was actually witnessing what looked like a giant ass. If my ass went halfway up my back I’d be cursing to. I didn’t have to go back the next day and I found out that everyone else was from a halfway house making considerably less than my princely $5.50 an hour.