| They met at the very edge of Queen Anne Hill, | | | | distinct Seattle accent, she counted down the |
| in the parking lot of a defunct Safeway | | | | last few seconds -- 12:59.58, 12:59.59 . . . |
| store. In the dead of night they gathered, | | | | Suddenly, she whipped the flag through the |
| this gang for sly and sneaky temps, to fight | | | | air and jumped into the cab of her rig. |
| for the longest and best temporary employee | | | | |
| assignment in Seattle. Make no mistake about | | | | Diesel engines instantly roared to life, |
| it, they would fight to the death if need be, | | | | bright headlights came on and Hairless |
| and the losers had already pledged to turn | | | | Harry's eyes turned dark and mean. He was |
| the job down. | | | | dressed in all black, the same midnight black |
| | | | as the paint on his rig, when he harshly |
| It was Gretta who called this gang together, | | | | shoved his stick into gear. A size 22 boot |
| having recently survived the worst assignment | | | | slammed on the gas and his big shiny machine |
| of them all-the dreaded mail room job at the | | | | shot through the darkness -- through the |
| city jail. Her hands bandaged from paper | | | | parking lot and clean through the chain link |
| cuts, her back just barely healed from heavy | | | | fence. |
| lifting, Gretta was determined to have that | | | | |
| job if it was the last thing she ever did! | | | | His tires squealed, his engine roared and the |
| But what kind of race would be fair? Temps | | | | strained metal of his rig cried out in |
| came in all shapes and sizes. Some were old, | | | | anguish as he desperately tried to make the |
| some young, some fat, some ugly and some | | | | turn. Two Qwest phone booths were the first |
| … well, Gretta would only say she | | | | to go, flying across the intersection and |
| couldn't compete with some of them. | | | | landing on three empty, parked cars. Then the |
| | | | Bank of America building seemed to |
| Eighteen Wheelers, decided Gretta. Shoot, | | | | tremble… just before he ran over the |
| everyone had one and knew how to drive it. | | | | curb, knocked over the "no parking" sign and |
| Yes indeed, that would be fair. So there they | | | | bounced off its side. Finally, Hairless Harry |
| were, this gang of the top six temps, their | | | | straightened the wheels and sped off down the |
| shiny rigs evenly lined up in the empty | | | | street. |
| parking lot. With her Mariner baseball cap on | | | | |
| backward, dressed in faded jeans and her | | | | Still glued to her seat, Quick Draw Lucy |
| favorite Seahawk sweatshirt, Gretta slowly | | | | roared with laughter - Hairless Harry was |
| raised the flag. In a loud voice and with a | | | | going the wrong way! |