Well, I do. I'm sure that is a shocking revelation for you. Pfft....
Today while driving home, I saw an orange plastic thing on the side of the road.
First thought: A plastic pumpkin. 'Tis the season and all that!
Second thought: Nope, it's a plastic bowl.
Well, I was wrong on both counts. It was a construction helmet.
Now, I would not fantasize about how it got there. That is obvious. However, I did think about the upcoming days.
Construction Bob and His Hat
Construction Bob left for work early in the morning, like usual. The sun barely peeping above the plains, gradually lighting the tall grasses a soft buttery yellow. Bob hummed along with the songs on the radio, looking forward to a day of moving steel beams upright with him in the operator's seat of the monsterous crane he operated daily.
He arrived at the job site, eager to get started. He grabbed his coffee out of the cup holder and moved to the back of his truck to grab his protective gear. That's when he realized, ut oh, no hard hat!
Bob thought hard as to where he might have left his hard hat. He recalled after the crew called quits for the day previously, a few of the guys, himself included, lingered to discuss the merits of real boobs vs. implants. Bob was partial to real, as his wife was amply endowed naturally. That's not to say that her "cup overfloweth", but he was quite pleased with his playground. A gentle smile stole across his face. He mentally shook himself before he allowed his thoughts to play further and it was then he recalled placing his hard hat on the rear bumper.
"Ah, well." He thought and walked over to the construction trailer to requistion another hard hat.
Bob clambered back into his truck for the ride home, relishing the thought of a cool shower and warm meal waiting for him at home.
Driving along the highway, with thoughts of his lovely wife of fifteen years gliding through his mind, he saw a flash of orange on the right side of the highway.
"Holy crow! My hat!" he exclaimed as he drove past.
Bob wondered if tommorrow he should pull over and pick it up. He continued home.
Bob's day was finished. It had been a hard day, filled with little complications and no show temp workers. He sighed, "Tomorrow's another day."
Bob drove along and just as he was about to change the radio station, he saw his hat. "Not today, little buddy!", he yelled towards the orange hat. He chuckled at that and continued home.
Bob was feeling a little queasy after eating lunch with the big bosses. He toughed out the day, wishing for the comforts of home, rather than the port-a-pottie he kept having to run back and forth from. Sometimes a free lunch really wasn't worth it. The day dragged on but finally it was time to head back home.
He drove on home with an eye to the left, waiting to see his hat. His hat did not disappoint, it was right there waiting for him. That comforted Bob and he waved as his hat flashed by the passenger window.
It was raining this morning and Bob thought of his orange hat on the side of the highway. He sipped his coffee and mused about his hat, just lying there all alone. "All alone?" It's a hat, for Pete's sake!", he chided himself.
The rain wasn't letting up anytime soon. Bob sat in the dingy construction trailer to finish up some paperwork before calling it quits for the day.
He looked forward to seeing his hat on the highway, wondering if it had blown over in the rain storm or possibly stranded in a puddle.
He soon saw the orange dot in the distance and moved forward in his seat in anticipation. He slowed down as much as traffic would allow him to get a better view. There was his hat and behind it a page of newsprint, captured against the concrete barrier. "Ha!", he cried out loud. "Have a good read, little buddy!"
It was still raining the next day, but still a decent day to run up north for some materials for the construction project. He got one of the younger fellows to ride with him for the short run pick up. As they neared his hat, Bob pointed towards it and said with a huge grin, "That's my hat."
The younger fellow eyeballed him, said nothing and changed the radio channel.
Bob felt disheartened.
With the day wrapping up, Bob wondered about his hat. Should he pull over and get it? No, he couldn't do that. It just wasn't safe.
Later, as he drove by his hat, he whispered to himself, "I still love ya, little buddy."
It was a late start for Bob today. The crew had to wait for the site to dry up a bit before construction got started.
The day went smooth, so smooth that they had almost caught up to where they were before the rain delay.
Bob left feeling good about a day well worked.
Driving toward home, he approached where his hat should have been.
It was gone. The street sweepers had done their job.
Now his hat was buried inside a street sweeper's truck amongst the litter, and detritus of a fast paced society. His hat's fate was only to be tossed in a dump with more forgotten discards of a disposable society.
"See ya, little buddy.", said Bob with a hitch in his voice and continued home.