Click images for desktop size: "Marx Brothers Lobby Card" I barely slept and faced the day with my normal amount of dread. I went to the daily labor joint and there were about 300 guys waiting for what turned out to be 40 odd jobs. Some of them were wearing shirt and tie. Poor fools. Only the old timers who, if work didn't turn up would go out and beg, were having a good time. Everyone else smelled deep of desperation and fear.

There's little conversation on days like this. You have to not hate the guy who may get a job. If you've been talking to him that could be difficult. My acquaintance Terry was there and we spoke briefly in that conversation men have who've not had enough sleep and are fighting off desperation rage. We talked about how there was a coffee machine in the labor office but they never gave us any coffee. We sit there in a near quiet and tried not to glare at the guys who hit the lucky number and got to stroll out to a days work. Terry and I sat on our haunches our backs against the wall. A guy I didn't know came and crouched next to us, after a few quiet moments he asked me about Ethel. I told him she had died. He said that was too bad. “She was a mighty fine dog.” Ethel always knew more people than I did. After 3 hours I told Terry about the job at the Steel Exporter in Data Entry. I said I was leaving to walk there. He offered me a ride. I told him I had no money to help with the gas. He was offended and said he didn't ask me for money. Terry drove me there. With a bad situation employer's are like any bargain shopper and will take advantage of it. Even if they have to work hard to make the situation that bad. Humanity has become a fashionable joke to parade when the investigations start. There were at least 50 guys there sprawled all over a rather tacky linoleum covered lobby, all filling in forms and trying to borrow pens. You went to a uniformed guard who stood behind a hand printed sign that said “No Resumes”. He tore a job application off a pad and put it on the counter for you to pick up so he wouldn't have to risk touching you or looking you in the eye. When you finished you put your bit of paper in a brown cardboard box that said “Job Apps” in Magic Marker. When I put mine in it was over half filled. As they were only taking apps from 9 till 11 AM and it was just now 9:30 I figured my chances weren't too good. Terry drove us back to the labor joint where he continued talking about cars and how he couldn't drive any of those little cars. He was a big man and needed a big car. He told me how he was going to fix this heap up and drive him and his wife out to China Lake where he could get a job. I tell it badly but I liked listening to him tell it. I felt a little bit doomed and only knew I had to get out of this town. I felt like a character in a bad pop song, which is not a good thing to be. I learned a long time ago to never trust any plan of mine that the Coyote (from the Roadrunner cartoons) would consider a good idea. Those plans are never a good idea. Out of my darkness a friend came and offered me the chance to start a new life. It felt almost like my little dog had come back and was asking me where we going to go now that we can still walk. Speaking of which the swelling of my feet has gone down. The left one still looks deformed but no longer like I'm the elephant man. Hope is a funny thing. It can be a killer and it can be the resurrector. Hope can also be your friend. Tonight I'm going to luxuriate in it.

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