By Rosalyn McMillan
A brutal fight for energy within the manipulative car pits white collar opposed to blue collar. lifestyles changing secrets and techniques, satisfaction, ambition, & lust force them to snatch what they could from existence, prior to the upheaval provides to alter their relationships endlessly.
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Additional info for Blue Collar Blues
Tired workers grunted their hellos and good mornings, followed by the angry whirring sound of power sewing machines gearing up. Even the machines had an attitude this morning. * * * Fifty-five minutes later, Khan was hunched over her machine, sweating like a mad dog poised for the kill. It had taken her less than an hour to sew up most of her float. The power of the machine’s humming vibrated from her fingers to the tips of her toes, but it hadn’t done much for the throbbing pain in her head. Where was Luella?
C. Fuck it. That bastard owes me an explanation. She reached beneath her table and retrieved her purse in search of change for the telephone. As she did so, she inhaled the unpleasant odor of a man who thought he could camouflage not taking a bath with an overdose of cologne—her supervisor, James Allister. So much for the phone call. Scratching his head with a pencil, Allister stood by her machine with the time sheet in his hand. “Mornin’, Davis. ” Khan looked at the time sheet and rolled her eyes.
They took forever to answer. “Hello, Sam. Problems with the Delta bolts. Send a couple people down to Rouge Build to remove the defective bolts. Cindy has the lot numbers. Then take them to rejected parts in the holding area. ” Damn! The tour tomorrow! By then there would be dozens of luxury seats lined up in the east aisleways, blocking all who passed. When she finally got the Georgia supplier on the line and told him that she needed a shipment tonight, he politely told her that they couldn’t possibly be flown into Metro Airport until seven in the morning.