Manual Labor in the Time of Swine Flu

Bone-tired, dignity-depleted, I walk the decrepit streets of Nolita dragging articles of commerce and a heavy heart. For hours upon hours I tread these streets, the hot sun eclipsing my hope for a better future. The hours pass, the temperature rises and still I have only made $20 extra on commission.

Manual labor-heavy summer jobs are a necessary part of growing up. They teach you about struggle and the chilly, corporate businesspeople you will meet on streets you would never patronize unless you were peddling wares.

 

Weary and harried, in the face of such sorrow, I retreat to the playground-park at Spring and Mulberry.