So we’re sitting in a cafe on 13th, been out job hunting. I’m leafing through the back pages of Westword, circling museum gift shops and anything else I think I can get in a hurry, that won’t take up all of my time and energy. Find a liquor store ad. I can handle cash and customers! I’m over 21! I circle it. She says something like, “Do you want to get held up?”

And I say, “Liquor stores really get held up here?”

“Yeah.”

“Really? But it’s 1800 a month!”

She gives me the same kind of look she gave me one night a long time ago, back in Brooklyn before a party. A look that, then, said, ‘Fine, wear those shoes if you want. I’m not the one who’s going to look stupid.’

I cross out the ad.

“Wait, which one is it?”

“Argonaut,” I say.

“Oh, that one’s okay. They have a police officer in there all the time.”

Looks like for now I’m sticking to museums and book stores.