I ran into Jet Smithee early Sunday morning whilst I was questing for breakfast. He was pouring sawdust over fresh vomit in front of a laundry mat on N Lombard. When he saw me he smiled and pulled out a smoke and a light from the breast pocket of his coveralls.
"You look like shit, boss."
"Well, you smell like it."
"Ah, but I feel like a million dollars."
Apparently, Jet was laid off from the lunch box plant just a few weeks after I was. I'd worked there as a thermos designer and he was Chief of Overnight Custodial Operations.
"I ain't gonna let that shit hold me back. I still got work to do."
"It's a nice place, I guess"
"Shit, chief. I don't work here. I'm cleaning up the whole damn neighborhood."
"What?"
"Thasright! I cain't stop working. I still get a check."
"It's called unemployment, Jet. You should take it easy."
"The only thing I'mma take easy is a smoke break every two hours."
And with that Jet got back to the vomit.