Monday, February 9, 2009

It has set in. V/12


It has set in. I always know when it has. The are little signs that start to appear. It’s usually about a third of the way into the job, or season. You see being a seasonal worker the jobs, and the seasons, come and go. Seasonal worker, it’s one step up from being a migrant worker. In the agricultural world the migrants are the street whores and the local seasonal workers are the call girls. We're not, yet, totally beaten up.

The fall is gradual. At times imperceptible. But it is. There are little signs that mark the descent. Like I said, they start appearing about a third of the way in. Which is where we are now, give or take a week. We just finished the grenache blanc today. I woke up this morning and the ring finger of my right hand was locked into a clenched position. That’s a sign.

This happened last year at the end of the taille, and well, it’s happening again now. Street whores are often ex-call girls, the leading cause for their descent to the lower paying/status job being a physical disfigurement. It's always better to look pretty when your being told what to do. It's also pays to keep your mouth shut.

I got to work at nine this morning. The day was still. No wind, fifty degrees. The sky was covered all day, the sun never came out but the light was clear. I was alone when I got there. I decided I would sugar up a bit. That's a sign too. The vigneron and his wife came at ten. The day passed quickly. I took an hour nap in the car. Dead - Calm.

I picked up a little prime de panier today. (something for your basket) The vigneron told me to come up to the house for a drink after work. His kids are at grandma’s for the week school vacation and he and his wife are feeling good. When I got there he laid a little bonus on me - a couple of big steaks, and a leg of sanglier - fresh from saturdays hunt. Oh yeah.

The sangliers are everywhere here but unless you hunt them, or pay out in the rare restaurant you rarely get to eat any. I was feeling good driving home today. Like a call girl when she leaves the trick’s room with an eight ball of coke as her prime de panier. Me, I get boar meat, but we both feel good about our jobs.

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