|01 July 2003
In the French Quarter there's a small National Park visitor's center - it's all about pirates and history and shit. Anyway, today I went in there to fill out an application for a "bookstore manager" job. I've never done it before, but I saw the bookstore, and it could fit in my closet. How hard could it be?
So I'm in there in cutoffs and an All Star t-shirt. I get the application from one park ranger and give it back to another.
As I'm walking out the stereotypical businessman walks in. He's balding, in his mid-forties, wearing a suit and tie, carrying a briefcase. He walks up to the ranger.
"I'd like to apply for the bookstore manager job, please," he says.
I told Sonya about this.
"Times are tough all over," she said.