The hours grew late, one by one the group had left, so that only a few remained.
The ongoing back and forth banter was typical for those who had worked together throughout the day and congregated at this particular joint for no other reason than the lager was cold and the sun had come up that day. At this point, the discussion, which was tinged - though not soaked - with several hours of liquid, was between just the two of us. “Baba, he said, I love these guys, I love this job…I’m Overhead…100%!”
His remark didn’t come as any surprise. He was just one in the cast of characters that made up our crew. Although short and stout in stature, his presence loomed large throughout our division. He was one of the funniest guys I knew. His keen wit kept many laughing, but could cut deep, if you found yourself locking horns. Though his loyalty to the trade was unquestionable, he wasn’t a lineman. His quest doomed, his size aside, by bum knees.
He wasn't a lineman but.... He was 100%...Overhead!