Every Day Is Protest Day

Colin and Noe were standing
in the parking lot of
the auto parts warehouse
where they worked, grabbing
a breath of fresh air.
Both sipped steaming coffee
from plastic travel mugs.
Noe deftly scrolled his phone
with one hand.

“This snow just won’t quit,”
said Colin, catching flakes in his hand.
“They say we’ll get another inch.
Thank God we work indoors.”

Noe stared at his phone.
“We’re not supposed
to be working at all.”

Doubt clouded Colin’s face.
“What the fuck do you mean?
It’s Friday. We work every Friday.”

“Not today,” said Noe.
“Today’s National Protest Day.
We’re not supposed to work.
We’re not supposed to spend money.
And if we have to work,
we’re supposed to work slowly,
with no extra effort.
And stretch out every break.
Thousands of people are doing it.”

Colin took another taste of coffee.
“In that case,” he said,
“Every day is Protest Day
for those mooks on the loading dock.”

It was then that
an electric horn screeched.
Both men reentered
the warehouse, laughing.