Sabato, 15 Maggio, 2004 | Posted by Lionel Gerkin at 08:39

I work at the Dance Factory. My role is to manage the Toaster production line. Ensure the quality is to the highest standard. I often get in early to make sure we are meeting production numbers and schedules. I also do it to get away from the usual morning greet. You know the kind:

"How are you doing, Manny? Cold today." I say.

"Good thanks Lionel." That's all I really want to hear. I don't really want to talk. It was just a courtesy. But no. "Cold, you reckon, Lionel. It's not that cold. Now last week it was cold, especially in the mornings."

"Yes, you're quite right, Manny. Last week was colder. Have a good ..."

"Brisk, whooo. I got out of bed to walk the dog and I have to tell you my balls just rushed straight back up and hid." He laughs. I don't. "My dick had shrunk so much I could hardly find it to take a leak..."

Now we're getting into the area of too much information.

I just nod and paste a smile on my face. These are my workers. I should spend some quality time with them.

"... I have to tell you, Lionel. If the Missus asked me to stand to attention, I would have had a problem ..."

I half listen. My head just nods. I look up at the office where the real management lives. They are rarely seen down here. Mr Pisaro is there. And I see Silvia. We have long parted, but I still think of her everyday.

They are talking and smiling, high above there in the clouds of steam that are generated from the kettles being tested. There is an intimacy in their eyes that I have never noticed before. She pushes back her hair from her face and binds it into a tight coil at the back of her head.

She buttons the top two buttons of her jacket. He looks at the necklace around her neck. It is the one I gave her. He reaches for it, their eyes meet and they laugh coyly. His hand slips down and slides over her breast. She makes no movement.

I am invisible. The factory around them is invisible. They are protected by steam clouds. They are in heaven. I am in hell. No one can see the way I feel. Not even Manny.

"You know, Lionel, I've had that dog for three years and do you think it would learn to sit? 'Sit!', I say. And it rolls over. 'Roll over, then, come on, good dog,' and it sits. It's a dumb dog, but you know what, Lionel, I still love it. I don't know what I would do without it..."