Construction Site: Second Sketch

The shovel handles stood like Greek pillars, holding aloft their constant burdens.
"Sometimes I wonder what they think about us," said one of the many orange-clad shovel leaners, gesturing to the stream of traffic creeping along behind the pilot truck.
"Um, those are cars. They don't think."
"I mean the people inside."
"Oh, I don't know," said another. "I guess they look at us with thanks for our hard work."
"We're leaning on shovels."
"Exactly," said another. "If we just sat down they would notice, but the shovels give the illusion that we are going to break out working at any moment."
"And we are less likely to be given more jobs if we don't look like we're resting," added another.
"I don't think anyone is fooled," said the first man, skeptically.
"Are you kidding, we have everyone fooled. We are revered by the public, appreciated by our superiors, and we all know what the pay is."
A murmur of approval came from the circle of men. The first man thought about it for a moment, then decided to take the older man's word for it. He nestled his chin comfortably down on the top of his shovel and slouched harder against it. He felt good in the knowledge that he was respected by all.