Workers

I went home a little earlier today. It’s funny to see how different the crowd is at a different time. I found myself in the S-Bahn (of course where else?) in the middle of a group of workers. Real workers. Like from this famous picture made during the construction of the Empire State Building. Probably this image influenced workers worldwide, serving as a kind of role model. They were heroes. They were building the future. Having lunch in heady heights. The photo created the image of the real worker. Until today. At least, I had this picture in mind the second I saw them. They were wearing these strong working trousers with a lot of pockets on the side. Real tools inside the pockets, not the kind we know from home. Not screwdrivers or hammers, these tools were big, much bigger, shining bright and silver.  Maybe porn is another style reference. All of them had a tan. The smell was an intense mixture of beer and tobacco, danger and fresh air. I imagined them working on top of a new skyscraper, their big Red Wings and Caterpillar boots hanging down. They might work on this high bridge like in the San Francisco Bay.  Somewhere closer to the sky. I felt like a kid, fascinated by those virile beings, dreaming of becoming like them, once I’ll be grown up. Once I’ll be a man.