JOHN HARVEY

 Spanish Music.com 

NEW GUY GETS THE BEST SPOT

Sometimes one of the regular guys would say, “Mr Juan, I know a guy who’s looking for work.”  “Do you know him?”  “Yeah, I know him, he’s a good worker.”  “Okay, he can go with us, I’ll hire him.  Tell him I’ll pick him up in the morning at 5:00.”  It would usually take an hour to get to the ranch where the fence was being built.  They would start working at 6:00 in the morning until 6:00 in the evening, a 12 hour day.  Of course they had a lunch hour and a break in the morning and a break in the evening. 

 

So he’s a new guy, so he doesn’t know.   When they’d pick up the new guy, everybody would watch to see where he was going to sit in the back of the open truck.  They’d say, “Oh no, why don’t you sit over there because so and so usually sits there.”  “Oh, okay.”   So the new guy would end up sitting behind my Grandfather. 

 

My Grandfather would be chewing tobacco, spitting out.  While we were in Encinal picking up the guys, no problem. Then we’d get on the road, the guy would be sitting there and if it was cold, that spot was warmer. “Hey, this is nice back here, right behind the cab, I don’t get all of the wind.  Out in the back of the bed, it’s a lot colder.”  The other guys would be smiling at each other, going, just wait.  The other guy would say, “What?”  “No, you don’t get as much wind as we do back here.”  “No, no I don’t.  Thank you.”  “Sure.” 

 

 

 

And then it goes, sscchh powp.  A big thing would hit him in the face.  “What was that,” he wipes his face, “It smells like tobacco.  What was that?”  The guys would look at each other.  Again, sscchh powp.  “What was that?”  “The boss, Don Juan, he chews tobacco and he spits out the window.  You got to watch when he’s going to spit out the window so you can cover up.”  “Oh, so I got to keep watching him?”  “Yeah, you got to keep watching him to see when he leans toward the window.   When you see he’s going to spit, pull your jacket over your head.”  “Oh,” he says looking around for another place to sit.  No, all of the other places are

taken.  He had to sit there.

 

My Grandfather chewed Bull Durham tobacco.  He would take a big chunk of it and put it into one side of his cheek.  Then he’d start spitting out the window and when we’re traveling, it circles around to the back.  The spit doesn’t just go out.  My grandfather probably thought he was just spitting straight out.  But the wind would carry the spit back and go around the back of the cab and hit whoever was sitting behind him.

 

By the time we’d get there, the guy would have to go and wash his face.  Ehk.   My Grandfather had

that Red Dodge truck that had the corner window with lots of tobacco splatter on it.  He’s the boss, you can’t tell him not to spit.  Because if you do, you can go home, you don’t have to go to work anymore.  The next time, the new guy didn’t want to sit there anymore.  Whoever got on first got the best spot.  Nobody picked that spot.  That was left for the last guy or the new guy.  When that was the last empty spot, they’d go, “Oh no.” 

 

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