The yard guys arrived early this morning, Monday morning, Labor Day 2020.
I apologized for the fact that they were working on Labor Day.
"Labor Day? Doesn't that mean that we should be working?"
He was genuinely confused. Smiling, he went on.
"We're glad to be working. Does that make it any better, if we're glad to be here?"
Yes, it did.
Did they always think of Labor Day as the end of summer and nothing more? Are they glad to be employed when their friends are worrying about making rent? Were they reacting to the distress on my face and in my voice?
It doesn't matter. We were glad to see one another, and that's all that mattered in Pandemic '01.
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