You really are new to this, aren't you?

The big, sweaty man asked from beside me in the driver's seat.

I almost didn't believe you when you said you knew nothing about the foundation.

The work van bounced through a deep bottle and its faulty suspension.

My head collided with the unbatted ceiling,

and I was launched momentarily upwards before the belt caught my midsection,

returning me to my seat.

This isn't gonna cost me the job, is it?

I asked after recovering.

You said I should be honest,

and the posting did say no experience necessary.

He chuckled, biting down on his trusty toothpick,

perpetually stuck at the corner of his mouth.

The man had introduced himself to me as Bill,

but I couldn't help noticing the name Steve was embroidered

across the breast pocket of his brown workman's shirt.

Nah, I ain't gonna fire you.

It's slim pickens out there,

especially when you're paying minimum wage,

hunting for kettle class entities.

What are those?

All in due time, kid.

...