Laura and I were talking the other day, and one of the things she said she loved about this site was that I’m not really too big about talking about work or my personal life. Apparently some people talk too much about themselves or something like the world revolves around them (metaphorically, not literally, although…), and that the writers here at thedeadend.net are willing to write about different topics other than themselves.

As much as I adore Laura and her hot bee self, this is probably an entry she won’t be reading. Because IT’S ALL ABOUT ME!!!!11!!!!1111!!!!!

Actually it’s not really about me as much as it is about this guy from work, Jose.

New guy at work, he teamed up with me and we were chatting. Mostly banter, stuff about the job and what we do, and other crap.

Then he gets a page. His kid wanted him to call him back. I ask him how old his kid is, Jose tells me his son is 4.

End of story.

Until, for no reason, he starts telling me about how he has three kids. His oldest is 12, and the next youngest is 10. Both of them are his daughters.

We start to talk about raising our kids, and then he hits me with a doozy: “I know what you mean, it’s tough paying child support for them.”

I’m not sure, but I’m thinking he thinks I’m paying child support for my boy, or maybe he’s trying to relate by making that assumption or something. I don’t get a chance to correct him though.

“Three babies, with three different mothers.”

I reply with a genuine wow. What can you say to that? I’m pretty glib, and I just was lost. Not that I had time to rebut anyway.

“My boy is in Puerto Rico, and my daughters are in Florida.”

I didn’t know where to go with this. He didn’t want to talk about work anymore, and I was just not sure if this was a conversation I wanted to continue. Luckily his phone rang.

“Yeah … I’m at work … Started today … It’s an awesome job.”

This is where he looked at me and gave me a slick little grin.

“I’m making $20 an hour … Yeah they’re hiring … Come down!”

Mind you the job was not hiring, nobody was making $20 an hour, and the job sucks. I’d bet the guy was making no more than $8 an hour, and he wasn’t coming back to work.

At least I hope.