I flunk English, I’m outta here. I gotta get a job, and you know what that means. That’s right, they start me at the drive-up window and I gradually work my way up from shakes to burgers, and then one day my lucky break comes: the french fry guy dies and they offer me the job. But the day I’m supposed to start some men come by in a black Lincoln Continental and tell me I can make a quick 300 just for driving a van back from Mexico. When I get out of jail I’m 36 years old. Living in a flop house. No job. No home. No upward mobility. Very few teeth. And then one day they find me, face down in the gutter, clutching a bottle of paint thinner and why? Because you wouldn’t help me in English.
-Gib, The Sure Thing, imdb.com

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Specific recognition to: Dawn, Marcia, Tom, Valeria, Seth, Hugh, Beau, and the “Friday eMail” gang (you know who you are). Your comments on/off blog, guidance, and just being out there have enhanced my personal growth and creativity in ways yet to be known.

Joe

Joe Raasch :: Apr.02.2007 :: Personal :: 3 Comments »