While telling me about how terrible the new summer job is that his father set him up with, my best friend admitted to being upset and berated by his new boss who told him he was cleaning toilets wrong. This idea of his body that I know so well and have seen so well and come to love so much for, dressed in a muted green cleaning suit, crouched over a piss stained toilet in an office building somewhere in the city disgusted me in a way...the budding poet of our time. Knee deep in urine and shit and fluorescent lighting.
I told him he should quit. he said he had cried and already decided to never go back.
He said " God, I just hope my father understands."
I said, history would not have happened without that sentence, without that sentiment.
He said, "I just hope my father isn't angry."
I said, now there is a sentiment I know nothing about.
But I do know what an office building bathroom looks like and my best friend Matthew, has no place there.
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