The New and Improved Cynical Idealist

The Sleepy Guy

Every workplace has a sleepy guy. Some have more than one, but everywhere has at least one. The sleepy guy will never-ever sign up for overtime. Ever. Now, there's a difference between a sleepy guy, and a guy who's always asleep at work.

The sleepy guy has 2 states of matter, working to the bone, and sleeping, that's it. There's no in between. The sleepy guy will outwork everyone on the floor when it's time to work, but as soon as the work is done, they go into hibernation.

The sleepy guy almost always has a hoodie so they can curl it down over their eyes like a night-mask. It's really ingenious when you think about it. When they sleep in the corner with their hoodie like that, they end up sharing a striking similarity to the emperor in Star Wars. Almost nothing will wake the hibernating hoodie wearer except the sounds of work. Any other sound, whether it be guys talking, a phone ringing, something dropping on the floor, nothing disturbs their slumber. However, once they hear a crane turn on, or a fork-lift beeper, or perhaps an impact wrench they shoot up and plop the hardhat on their head like they just heard an air raid siren.

The sleepy guy also likes to do test trigger pulls of the impact wrench when they're holding it. Similar to the dad in the kitchen, test clicking tongs when they're flipping steak, the sleepy guy tests every tool before they use it. Ratchets get a test spin, impacts get a test trigger, hammers get a test whack. Everything gets tested at least once. I assume it's a ritual call to arms, but no one really knows.

The sleepy guy almost always subsists solely on a diet of Red Bull, 5 Hour Energy, and Newports, with an occasional small bag of Doritos. It makes you wonder what they eat at home, and how they are even alive.

The sleepy guy can carry on an entire conversation with a cigarette hanging out of their mouth. All of the English language is squeezed through the corner of their mouth while they slap each pocket looking for their lighter. When they are in their pre-hibernation nest we call, the smoking area, they never sit on the picnic bench, and instead elect to sit on top of the table and scan the workplace horizon for imminent threats. You and I call these Supervisors, or Foremen. They are the predators of the sleepy guy's world, despite the foremen really not caring that the sleepy guy is dozing off in the corner. They know he did his job, being awake in between tasks is a formality for higher ups, and so generally tip-toe in the break rooms to get their coffee or lunch box for fear of waking him.

No one really knows if the sleepy guy actually sleeps at home. It is a matter of debate, but it is widely agreed that they only go there to eat and work on their car or truck.

To all the sleepy guys at every workplace, if it weren't for your effort, hardly anything would get done. Thank you for your service.