Day 514 of the ruse, and all is proceeding as planned…mostly. People at work have asked why I come to work in a ute, but my stock explanation that it’s Dad’s old car and he likes me to take it so it gets miles and the engine doesn’t rot away seems to be keeping most of the questions at bay. I always have my workman’s outfit under the seat, and I always stop off at the McDoogle’s on the way home so I can change, so it looks like I’ve been hard at work. Only once have I forgotten to get out my bottle of grime and wipe it in random places to give the illusions of hard labour, and then I managed to blag my way out of it by saying we had a training day for new tool box central locking equipment.
Oh, and the one time when my Dad asked me to tell him what brand of fixed service bodies we used at my workplace. I said I’d check tomorrow and that answer seemed to stump him, as if anyone who worked in the construction industry would not know their service body variety, like, wowee. Still, I’ve covered for myself thus far, so I’m allowed a couple of slips.
If Dad knew I worked as a librarian during the daytime I’d be tossed out of the house, and soon after, the will. He wants a son who gets his hands dirty, not one who wears spectacles and digs through old books every day. A couple of times I’ve almost forgotten the glasses, but I’ve always remembered to tuck them in the glovebox. In fact, I’ve managed to cover for almost everything. Whether it’s researching the definition of terms like ‘draw systems’ or looking up where to order custom aluminium toolboxes in Melbourne so I can say I got them from the premium place, I’ve maintained my dual identity impeccably.
Maybe Dad wonders why I’m still skinny and bookish at home, despite apparently working in construction all day. But I guess operating machinery is a good enough excuse. Operating machinery, and knowing a bunch of aluminium terms.