One did not need a college degree to do this. One did not even need a high school diploma.
Nervously, Michael took the staple gun and gave it a try. He did fine until he reached the end of the sofa back. He caught his foot on a corner of the wooden frame and fell backward on his butt.
This was greeted by a chorus of laughter.
I helped him up.
“So he’s both deaf and dumb!” one of the workers exclaimed.
More laughter.
I turned around, smiled, looking over the fellas while I reminded myself to be nice.
“Someone has a sense of humor,” I said casually.
They hemmed and hawed and quieted down.
“If you want to insult him, I could translate for you,” I offered. “Might as well say it to his face, right? Strap on a pair. All of that. I mean, you’re not going to be insulting the cripple behind his back, are you?”
They looked at each other, at the floor, at their supervisor, but they did not look at me.