It was a grim morning.

     At 8:15 am, a laborer sweeping the building somehow fell two hundred feet down an elevator shaft.  He died (no shit.)

     OSHA immediately stepped in and shut the job down (not quickly enough, according to the dude’s widow).  We were out of work for two weeks.  Luckily, we qualified for a certain amount of unemployment compensation, and I used the down time to catch up on my drinking.

     The company in charge of construction got a walloping five hundred dollar fine.

     Oh, what punishment.

     For murder!

     My darling young assistant was paler than usual.  “I saw it happen!” Spence witnessed.  “I was there!”

     “Out with it!” demanded Bud.

     “There was no barrier around the shaft.  It was dark.  You couldn’t see the hole.  He fell.  I ran.  That’s my story.”

     “No barrier, huh?” I asked.

     “Nope.  They put one up right after he fell, though..”

     “That was mighty nice of ’em!”  That was mighty criminal of them!

     No, we didn’t blow the whistle. You gotta watch out for holes in the ground yourself.  This isn’t la-la land.  This isn’t Vermont. The reality is that life is completely fucked up and disgusting and cruel. Life is like wearing Rosie O’Donnell’s filthy panties on your head and expecting not to be offended. Well you’re gonna be offended, buddy. No one really gives a shit about you, and if they say they do, they just want your money.

     At least, that’s the way it is in Dallas, Texas, USA.

     You gotta love it.

2026 R.M. Reliable Electric