Today I painted the floor at Essanay.
Stage 1.
6,000 square feet.
I had a partner.
A Swedish guy.
Ulf.
The floor was black.
They wanted it white.
We started around 9am.
Ulf and I painted in silence.
A guy came in with a boom box.
He turned on B96.
I caught up on pop.
It's the same.
It was 1pm.
It looked like we were going to have to do two coats.
An old guy came in.
"No! No! No!"
He showed us how to paint.
"You make a 'W'!"
I had been painting "X"'s.
Okay.
So a "W".
Fine.
For the rest of the day I alternated between pretending I was in The Warriors and The Wolverines.
Ulf changed the radio station.
"I hate that Euro disco shit."
Oh.
So we had been listening to B96 for hours and we both hated it.
He put on the oldies.
He wanted to hear some Neil Diamond.
Around 5pm they eventually played some.
"Sweet Caroline" of course.
Thankfully Ulf didn't do that obnoxious "so good so good" thing.
I fucking hate that so much.
We had been painting nonstop.
There had been no lunch.
The white paint was dizzying.
It sat in my periphery.
Like being inside an egg.
Mmm, eggs.
Some guys came in to check out our work.
I was far away in the corner.
Ulf and the guys just stared at me.
I put my roller down and waved at them.
"YOU'RE DOIN' A GREAT JOB, DUDE!"
"cool."
We finished.
My black shoes were dotted with white paint.
My only pair of shoes.
Time to go.
Lauren made delicious chili.
I devoured it in time for Monday Night Football.
Bears vs. Packers.
It was an exciting game.
I yelled at the TV with blue collar rage.
"MURDER THOSE FUCKS!!"
"CUT OFF HIS FUCKIN' DICK!!"
"YANK HIS ARM OUT OF ITS SOCKET!!!"
"FUCK HIS SISTER IN THE FACE!!"
"SHIT IN HIS MOUTH!!!"
That paint hate had to go somewhere.
Verdict: Win
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