“I’d love to, believe me,” he sighed. “But Yotam won’t let me. It’s his first finals.”

“Of course, you’re right. I wish I had a kid to watch it with.”

“What’s the rush to have kids? You have all the time in the world, you’re barely thirty.”

“I’m thirty-four.”

“Even better, trust me,” he said, and walked out of the room.

I stayed alone with the radio set. It was an early sixties model, old but in decent condition. It switched on but didn’t pick up any stations. I spent a few hours fiddling with it but couldn’t find the source of the malfunction. I changed the antenna and a few other parts, but nothing helped. It pissed me off because I hate wasting an entire shift on one device. Not that Benny would ever say anything. He really is a great boss. He knows talking to customers isn’t my thing, and he’s cool with me staying in the back room all day, fixing devices. He’s always telling me to feel free to set my own pace, that as far as he’s concerned, I can take all the time in the world, though, I’m not sure how sincere he’s being. After all, it’s not as if he has all that time to give me even if he wanted to. I know it sounds petty, but it bothers me when people say things they don’t actually mean. Personally, I prefer being as precise as possible. I use iPhone notes to keep a daily record of my expenses and how much time I spend in front of my computer. That’s how I know my daily repair average is eleven devices, and that it takes me fourteen minutes and seven seconds to get from my house to the old strip mall. If it wasn’t for Nurit, it would take me thirteen and a half minutes. She works at the drugstore next to Benny’s shop and stops me each morning at the entrance to the strip mall, always finding something to criticize. My slumped posture, for instance, or that I don’t have enough hair to justify buying shampoo. I have the feeling she’s like that with everyone, but I have no way of knowing. Maybe she just can’t stand me.

2.

IT TOOK ME four days to fix the old man’s radio. I mean, I thought I had fixed it, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. It didn’t pick up Galei Tzahal or Reshet Bet, only stations I never listen to, like 93.1 and 108 FM. The quality wasn’t that great either; there was tons of static. I tinkered with it for two minutes and twenty seconds, until I finally stumbled on a station it picked up beautifully, 98.6 FM.

Four-hundred-and-thirty-plus-eighty-five-plus-six-hundred-and-fuck-wait-forgot-the-VAT-dammit-from-the-top-five-hundred-and-three-plus-one-hundred-no-no-it-makes-no-sense.

The volume kept going up even though I wasn’t touching anything.