The weather has warmed, and the ground is drying out, heaving up framing lumber skeletons across the valley. Though natural gas drilling has gone from slow to slower, we hear the local economy is looking up. But for the folks at the Day Center, opportunity still means mostly part-time or temp jobs—general laborers, housekeepers, delivery drivers and dock workers.
Right now, a tall man in our vestibule is looking for workers.
What kind of work, I ask.
Moving spools of wire. He ticks off his few requirements. Six to eight workers. Ability to lift thirty to forty pounds repeatedly.
The tall man says he was in yesterday, too. It didn't hit me until later why he came back today.
I make the announcement over the PA and men rush to the vestibule. The tall man says he'll pay ten to twelve dollars an hour, cash at the end of the day, with the possibility of a bonus. Not great wages, but he's surrounded people eager to take it.
He counts out three of the biggest men and says he'll be back at noon for more. I don't say he'll be lucky to find anyone still here then, because we'll be closing and the soup kitchen will be serving lunch down the street. If people want to wait around for the tall man to return, that's their business.
After they leave, Ron tells me he worked for the tall man yesterday packing wooden spools of obsolete wire into shipping containers that will be hauled to Salt Lake City for scrapping. He thought about going out to the site again this morning, but the work is hard and monotonous, and he didn't like how they were treated.
Ron worked a straight eight-and-a-half hours and was paid for eight. He got back late to the shelter and nearly lost his place. There were no breaks allowed except for water. These guys are Romanians, Ron says. They don't understand our labor practices. Even fifteen minutes for lunch would've been nice. I'm fifty-four. I can't work all day like that any more. I'm thinking of reporting him to the labor department.
It's the day labor dilemma. Take what you can get because there might be nothing tomorrow. Hope the ten-to-twelve-dollar rate means twelve for you, but if it doesn't, you're still ahead of where you were. Do they provide gloves, breaks, transportation back from the site? That isn't discussed. Cash means no withholdings and no benefits, take it or leave it.
Ron was last on my list of men wanting haircuts so they could look for jobs. By the time I called his name, he wasn't around. Maybe the tall man came back for more workers and Ron changed his mind.
The economy may be doing better, but the jobs at the bottom are the same. A shower and a haircut might help a more reputable employer overlook your record and your address at the shelter. But when the tall man returns, you have to think about today.
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