He heard a commotion coming from the bathroom but thought little of it. These were young men competing at the highest levels. Things were bound to get rowdy.
Then the mechanic saw something he shouldn’t have.
One of the cyclists left the bathroom door ajar. Another foolishly left a handful of empty syringes on the counter. Sloppy, sloppy.
He put his head down and went back to completing the last tuneup. He was almost finished too, almost gone for the day when the Team Captain appeared.
“We good?” he asked.
The mechanic nodded. He knew he didn’t have a choice.
The Weekday One Hundred 