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🔴 I got the sack by WhatsApp on the way home The message came through when the bus had already left Salford heading into Manchester. I was sat by the window, still in my dirty orange hi-vis, one earphone in and an Aldi bag at my feet. Inside: milk, bread, pasta and the cheapest yoghurts for the kids. The phone buzzed. I thought it was Sarah asking where I was. But it was the gaffer. “Mark, no need to come in tomorrow. Site’s shut down. I’ll let you know later.” I read it a few times. No need to come in tomorrow. That was it. No phone call. No explanation. No “cheers mate”. Just a text, while I was heading home with the shopping I’d barely scraped together with the last bit of money I had. I looked down at the bag by my feet and that’s when it really hit me. At least I’d managed to get the milk. But tomorrow… I had no idea. My name’s Mark Thompson. I’m 35. I live in Manchester, in the Levenshulme area, and I’ve worked wherever the work was: Salford, Oldham, Stockport, the city centre. I’m not a writer. I just write how I talk. All my life I’ve worked with my hands, not with words. **I’ve never been a lazy bastard** Been grafting since I was 18. First in warehouses, then doing refurbs, then full-on construction. I can lay tiles, carry plasterboard, paint, drill, knock walls out, clean up, unload lorries. I’ve never skived. I turned up on time. Did what was asked. If they needed me to stay late, I stayed. If the site was miles away, I went. And still they sacked me with one text. Like a broken tool. That day we were loading materials on the second floor in Salford. Old house they were turning into posh flats for students and Airbnb types. For someone else it’ll be a nice rental. For us it was dust, bad backs and shit coffee from a machine in plastic cups. After the shift I popped into Aldi. Had £38 in the account. Got only what we needed: milk, bread, pasta, yoghurts, eggs and chicken on offer. At the till I picked up a packet of biscuits for Ellie. Put it b
