#Statement: Shhh! Don’t tell my manager, but I was half asleep during my early morning shift at the dining hall, sitting on a ripped black vinyl chair. It was the first dewy false-spring Wednesday of this year. My work tasks are quite habitual and mind-numbing, so I can get away with my half-dormant state after clocking in at 6:50 a.m. I wish I could say that I was thinking about something interesting, but I was mostly just staring at the floor. Breaking the simulation, a guy wearing a graphic tee depicting a man holding a massive barbell approached me. After the transaction, as I was in the middle of giving him his receipt, he reached over for a compostable napkin so as not to touch the receipt directly and announced, “gotta protect my T.” Per online trends, “T” is short for testosterone. I didn’t know what to say, so I just let out an awkward chuckle, assuming that he was joking. The barbell man didn’t chuckle back. I stopped laughing, and an awkward silence followed. To read mo...