Draft #2 (Final Copy)
Brandon Wilkins
English Composition 1
Working with Pops
Today is Wednesday and I don’t have school, whenever I didn’t have school I would go to work with my Dad and brother. My Dad was one who when it came to work it needed to be done right, and done quickly. If it wasn’t done quick or right, you were for sure to get yelled at. If I could I would put his picture next to workaholic in the dictionary. That’s why most of the time I didn’t like going to work with him and my brother, it seemed like most of the time he was yelling more than regularly talking.
So this morning my brother and I wake up around 8:00. We waited in the living room to hear the sound of my Dad’s truck pull up out front, he didn’t even have to beep the horn for us we would just know it was him by the rumbling sound of the truck. I never understood why he loves that truck, it’s an old Chevy truck the color was burgundy. Every day I get in that truck I knew it was going to be a long day, well at least for me because my brother had been working with my father installing carpet since he was 13, I was just coming along to make a little extra cash and help out. When I got in the back of the truck it was long rolls of carpet, long enough that we had to open the back doors of the truck for it to hang out. We mostly did jobs for apartment complexes so the carpet was mainly tan. Other than that it was just toolboxes and a bunch of other tools just scattered around. For my Dad it seemed like he would find the oldest clothes he had to go to work in. He always had his bandana wrapped around his hair, with an old pair of shorts mainly jean shorts that looked like they use to be jean pants until somebody cut the other half of the pants off to make them shorts. I knew my Dad had a daily routine he goes through before he came to pick me and my brother up. He always had his Dunkin Donuts coffee, and two fresh packs of Cool cigarettes. I knew by the time we would get in the truck he had already smoked a few of them because of the lingering smoke and smell in the truck.
The morning rides to where the job was at was the best to me because nobody really would say much on the ride there but listen to the radio, but mainly because I was still tired and wanted to get a little nap before we got there. My Dad would keep the radio on the same FM station which was WDAS, listening to the Steve Harvey morning show he would chuckle sometimes to himself listening to it. After a good hour ride we got to the job sometimes less than that. My dad did what he usually does, which was go check the place out first while my brother and I waited in the truck. When he came back he’d tell my brother what to do, and me I just help with whatever he had told my brother. During the whole day of work he smoked cigarettes while he worked, and when something didn’t go right on the job he would swear like a sailor. He was the type of guy that didn’t want to take any breaks until the job was done, because if he did the job would just become longer for him. It almost seemed like he hated working the way he went about it and was grumpy the whole job. Throughout the day he would yell to me to go out and grab him a tool out of the truck, and to make it quick. All the tools he had looked pretty old to me, like as if he had the same tools when he first stared installing carpet. He always could tell when I or my brother got tired because he would always say that we didn’t have that much longer “let’s get this shit over with so we can get out of here”.
When the job was finally over he would sit in the truck and smoke a cigarette while my brother and I would bring all the tools back to the truck. On the ride home though you could tell he was happy that we all finished the job, it was like he was back to being Dad instead of the Boss. He would crack jokes and ask if we were hungry for something to eat. He never use his phone until we were all done working, so on the ride back he would call everyone that had called him while working. Sometimes it would be one of his buddy’s he be talking to and he would laugh loud and obnoxiously. He also had a routine after work too, and that was to stop at a liquor store and buy his six pack of beers for the night, always miller highlife. When we would finally get home for him to drop us off he’d tell us that today was a good work day and to be ready tomorrow, he always gave us a fist bump before we got out the truck, his knuckles were always dry and ashy because of the work he did that day, and his hair would be all frizzy from sweating.
I would get out the truck and be glad that today’s work is over; my clothes always lingered with smoke when I got home because of the cigarettes. It’s a love hate thing going to work with my Dad because there was never no breaks and he would be hard on me and pushy when I did something wrong or wasn’t doing anything at all. I understand why he was like that, I know it’s just to show me how to be a hard worker and to not slack on the job to just get it done and over with. He’s always my boss during work but when the job was over he was back to being Dad.
English Composition 1
Working with Pops
Today is Wednesday and I don’t have school, whenever I didn’t have school I would go to work with my Dad and brother. My Dad was one who when it came to work it needed to be done right, and done quickly. If it wasn’t done quick or right, you were for sure to get yelled at. If I could I would put his picture next to workaholic in the dictionary. That’s why most of the time I didn’t like going to work with him and my brother, it seemed like most of the time he was yelling more than regularly talking.
So this morning my brother and I wake up around 8:00. We waited in the living room to hear the sound of my Dad’s truck pull up out front, he didn’t even have to beep the horn for us we would just know it was him by the rumbling sound of the truck. I never understood why he loves that truck, it’s an old Chevy truck the color was burgundy. Every day I get in that truck I knew it was going to be a long day, well at least for me because my brother had been working with my father installing carpet since he was 13, I was just coming along to make a little extra cash and help out. When I got in the back of the truck it was long rolls of carpet, long enough that we had to open the back doors of the truck for it to hang out. We mostly did jobs for apartment complexes so the carpet was mainly tan. Other than that it was just toolboxes and a bunch of other tools just scattered around. For my Dad it seemed like he would find the oldest clothes he had to go to work in. He always had his bandana wrapped around his hair, with an old pair of shorts mainly jean shorts that looked like they use to be jean pants until somebody cut the other half of the pants off to make them shorts. I knew my Dad had a daily routine he goes through before he came to pick me and my brother up. He always had his Dunkin Donuts coffee, and two fresh packs of Cool cigarettes. I knew by the time we would get in the truck he had already smoked a few of them because of the lingering smoke and smell in the truck.
The morning rides to where the job was at was the best to me because nobody really would say much on the ride there but listen to the radio, but mainly because I was still tired and wanted to get a little nap before we got there. My Dad would keep the radio on the same FM station which was WDAS, listening to the Steve Harvey morning show he would chuckle sometimes to himself listening to it. After a good hour ride we got to the job sometimes less than that. My dad did what he usually does, which was go check the place out first while my brother and I waited in the truck. When he came back he’d tell my brother what to do, and me I just help with whatever he had told my brother. During the whole day of work he smoked cigarettes while he worked, and when something didn’t go right on the job he would swear like a sailor. He was the type of guy that didn’t want to take any breaks until the job was done, because if he did the job would just become longer for him. It almost seemed like he hated working the way he went about it and was grumpy the whole job. Throughout the day he would yell to me to go out and grab him a tool out of the truck, and to make it quick. All the tools he had looked pretty old to me, like as if he had the same tools when he first stared installing carpet. He always could tell when I or my brother got tired because he would always say that we didn’t have that much longer “let’s get this shit over with so we can get out of here”.
When the job was finally over he would sit in the truck and smoke a cigarette while my brother and I would bring all the tools back to the truck. On the ride home though you could tell he was happy that we all finished the job, it was like he was back to being Dad instead of the Boss. He would crack jokes and ask if we were hungry for something to eat. He never use his phone until we were all done working, so on the ride back he would call everyone that had called him while working. Sometimes it would be one of his buddy’s he be talking to and he would laugh loud and obnoxiously. He also had a routine after work too, and that was to stop at a liquor store and buy his six pack of beers for the night, always miller highlife. When we would finally get home for him to drop us off he’d tell us that today was a good work day and to be ready tomorrow, he always gave us a fist bump before we got out the truck, his knuckles were always dry and ashy because of the work he did that day, and his hair would be all frizzy from sweating.
I would get out the truck and be glad that today’s work is over; my clothes always lingered with smoke when I got home because of the cigarettes. It’s a love hate thing going to work with my Dad because there was never no breaks and he would be hard on me and pushy when I did something wrong or wasn’t doing anything at all. I understand why he was like that, I know it’s just to show me how to be a hard worker and to not slack on the job to just get it done and over with. He’s always my boss during work but when the job was over he was back to being Dad.
Draft #1
Brandon Wilkins
English Composition 1
Whenever I don’t have school I would go to work with my Dad and brother. My Dad was one who when it came to work it needed to be done right, and done quickly. If it wasn’t done quick or right, you were for sure to get yelled at. If I could I would put his picture next to workaholic in the dictionary. That’s why most of the time I didn’t like going to work with him and my brother, it seemed like most of the time he was yelling more than regularly talking.
So every morning my brother and I would wake up around 8:00. We would wait in the living room to hear the sound of my Dad’s truck pull up out front, he didn’t even have to beep the horn for us we would just know it was him by the rumbling sound of the truck. I never understood why he loves that truck, it’s an old Chevy truck the color was burgundy. Every day I would get in that truck I knew it was going to be a long day, well at least for me because my brother had been working with my father installing carpet since he was 13, I was just coming along to make a little extra cash and help out. When I would get in that back of the truck it would be long rolls of carpet, sometimes long enough we had to open the back doors of the truck for it to hang out. We mostly did jobs for apartment complexes so the carpet was mainly tan. Other than that it was just toolboxes and a bunch of other tools just scattered around. For my Dad it seemed like he would find the oldest clothes he had to go to work in. He always had his bandana wrapped around his hair, with an old pair of shorts mainly jean shorts that looked like they use to be jean pants until somebody cut the other half of the pants off to make them shorts. I knew my Dad had a daily routine he would go through before he came to pick me and my brother up. He always had his Dunkin Donuts coffee, and two fresh packs of Cool cigarettes. I knew by the time we would get in the truck he had already smoked a few of them because of the lingering smoke and smell in the truck. The morning rides to where the job was at was the best to me because nobody really would say much on the ride there but listen to the radio, but mainly because I was still tired and wanted to get a little nap before we got there. My Dad would keep the radio on the same FM station which was WDAS, listening to the Steve Harvey morning show he would chuckle sometimes to himself listening to it. After a good hour ride we would be at the job sometimes less than that, he would go check the place out first while my brother and I would wait in the truck. When he would come back he’d tell my brother what to do, and me I would just help with whatever he had told my brother. During the whole day of work he would smoke cigarettes while he worked, and when something didn’t go right on the job he would swear like a sailor. He was the type of guy that didn’t want to take any breaks until the job was done, because if he did the job would just become longer for him. It almost seemed like he hated working the way he went about it and was grumpy the whole job. Throughout the day he would yell to me to go out and grab him a tool out of the truck, and to make it quick. All the tools he had looked pretty old to me, like as if he had the same tools when he first stared installing carpet. He could always tell when I or my brother got tired because he would always say that we didn’t have that much longer let’s get this shit over with so we can get out of here. When the job was finally over he would sit in the truck and smoke a cigarette while my brother and I would bring all the tools back to the truck. On the ride home though you could tell he was happy that we all finished the job, it was like he was back to being Dad instead of the Boss. He would crack jokes and ask if we were hungry for something to eat. He never use his phone until we were all done working, so on the ride back he would call everyone that had called him while working. Sometimes it would be one of his buddy’s he be talking to and he would laugh loud and obnoxiously. He also had a routine after work too, and that was to stop at a liquor store and buy his six pack of beers for the night, always miller highlife. When we would finally get home for him to drop us off he’d tell us that today was a good work day and to be ready tomorrow, he always gave us a fist bump before we got out the truck, his knuckles were always dry and ashy because of the work he did that day, and his hair would be all frizzy from sweating.
I would get out the truck and be glad that today’s work is over; my clothes always lingered with smoke when I got home because of the cigarettes. It’s a love hate thing going to work with my Dad because there was never no breaks and he would be hard on me and pushy when I did something wrong or wasn’t doing anything at all. I understand why he was like that, I know it’s just to show me how to be a hard worker and to not slack on the job to just get it done and over with. He’s always my boss during work but when the job was over he was back to being Dad.
English Composition 1
Whenever I don’t have school I would go to work with my Dad and brother. My Dad was one who when it came to work it needed to be done right, and done quickly. If it wasn’t done quick or right, you were for sure to get yelled at. If I could I would put his picture next to workaholic in the dictionary. That’s why most of the time I didn’t like going to work with him and my brother, it seemed like most of the time he was yelling more than regularly talking.
So every morning my brother and I would wake up around 8:00. We would wait in the living room to hear the sound of my Dad’s truck pull up out front, he didn’t even have to beep the horn for us we would just know it was him by the rumbling sound of the truck. I never understood why he loves that truck, it’s an old Chevy truck the color was burgundy. Every day I would get in that truck I knew it was going to be a long day, well at least for me because my brother had been working with my father installing carpet since he was 13, I was just coming along to make a little extra cash and help out. When I would get in that back of the truck it would be long rolls of carpet, sometimes long enough we had to open the back doors of the truck for it to hang out. We mostly did jobs for apartment complexes so the carpet was mainly tan. Other than that it was just toolboxes and a bunch of other tools just scattered around. For my Dad it seemed like he would find the oldest clothes he had to go to work in. He always had his bandana wrapped around his hair, with an old pair of shorts mainly jean shorts that looked like they use to be jean pants until somebody cut the other half of the pants off to make them shorts. I knew my Dad had a daily routine he would go through before he came to pick me and my brother up. He always had his Dunkin Donuts coffee, and two fresh packs of Cool cigarettes. I knew by the time we would get in the truck he had already smoked a few of them because of the lingering smoke and smell in the truck. The morning rides to where the job was at was the best to me because nobody really would say much on the ride there but listen to the radio, but mainly because I was still tired and wanted to get a little nap before we got there. My Dad would keep the radio on the same FM station which was WDAS, listening to the Steve Harvey morning show he would chuckle sometimes to himself listening to it. After a good hour ride we would be at the job sometimes less than that, he would go check the place out first while my brother and I would wait in the truck. When he would come back he’d tell my brother what to do, and me I would just help with whatever he had told my brother. During the whole day of work he would smoke cigarettes while he worked, and when something didn’t go right on the job he would swear like a sailor. He was the type of guy that didn’t want to take any breaks until the job was done, because if he did the job would just become longer for him. It almost seemed like he hated working the way he went about it and was grumpy the whole job. Throughout the day he would yell to me to go out and grab him a tool out of the truck, and to make it quick. All the tools he had looked pretty old to me, like as if he had the same tools when he first stared installing carpet. He could always tell when I or my brother got tired because he would always say that we didn’t have that much longer let’s get this shit over with so we can get out of here. When the job was finally over he would sit in the truck and smoke a cigarette while my brother and I would bring all the tools back to the truck. On the ride home though you could tell he was happy that we all finished the job, it was like he was back to being Dad instead of the Boss. He would crack jokes and ask if we were hungry for something to eat. He never use his phone until we were all done working, so on the ride back he would call everyone that had called him while working. Sometimes it would be one of his buddy’s he be talking to and he would laugh loud and obnoxiously. He also had a routine after work too, and that was to stop at a liquor store and buy his six pack of beers for the night, always miller highlife. When we would finally get home for him to drop us off he’d tell us that today was a good work day and to be ready tomorrow, he always gave us a fist bump before we got out the truck, his knuckles were always dry and ashy because of the work he did that day, and his hair would be all frizzy from sweating.
I would get out the truck and be glad that today’s work is over; my clothes always lingered with smoke when I got home because of the cigarettes. It’s a love hate thing going to work with my Dad because there was never no breaks and he would be hard on me and pushy when I did something wrong or wasn’t doing anything at all. I understand why he was like that, I know it’s just to show me how to be a hard worker and to not slack on the job to just get it done and over with. He’s always my boss during work but when the job was over he was back to being Dad.