Grounds

You made you're way to the trailer that served as the office for the grounds department. Inside four older men were sitting around playing cards and drinking coffee.

"Here about the job?" asked a bald man in a tank top.

"Yes sir," you said.

"Sir," he chuckled looking you up and down, "you look like a strong kid, we try to work early before the sun gets too bad, come back 5 tomorrow morning if you're serious."

You nodded and left. The next morning you woke up and made your way to the shed where the men were wearing jeans and t-shirts or tank tops.

"Back and on time," said the man, "you know how to work one of these?"

He handed you a hedge trimmer, "I do."

"Good," he said, "Murray, make sure the kid keeps all his fingers, trim Greek Alley."

Murray was the oldest of the men by a bit. As you got to near the Greek houses Murray sat in the cart and fell asleep as you trimmed the bushes and trees up and down the walkway between the houses. Soon the sun was up and you were hot, you took your shirt off and continued working stopping only to wipe your brow or when Murray snored particularly loud.

Despite the early hour, not quite 7 on a Monday a number of girls came out from the greek house you had been at for the party, they talked amongst themselves giggling as you worked.

Eventually you checked your phone, it was almost time for your first class.

"Murray," you said shaking the man awake, "I've gotta get to class."

He looked at the work you'd done, "not bad," he said with a shrug.