“Union rules,” he shrugged, grabbing his coat. “I’ve hit my max hours for the day.” He didn’t even bother to finish unloading the delivery truck, just left it sitting there, half-empty.

I spent the rest of the night doing his work and mine, knowing damn well he’d stroll in tomorrow, fresh and rested, ready to tell me how much the union’s done for him.

Closed alone, leaned on the counter, and whispered, “Yes, friend. This is fine.”

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5630775&forum_id=2/#48314463)