But all that took cash he didn't have. Not having cash made him surly
and mean. Other people had it, why couldn't he?
The better the economy did, the President
said, the more winners there would be. That was a simple law of economics.
Things always started moving at the top and then worked their way
down. In the end everyone shared in the wealth. Therefore he was cutting
taxes for the rich. That would serve as an incentive and consequently
there would be more contests and more sponsors and more people getting
rich. A reporter asked him if he was going to enter the contest himself.
"I've already won," he said.
John worked mornings or nights. That meant
6:30 a.m. till 4 p.m. or 4 p.m. till 1 a.m. They switched every week,
or sometimes, for whatever reason, he'd work mornings or nights two
weeks straight and once for a solid month, like when Mac, the other
cook, got married and wanted to be with the wife at night. When he
the whole day was shot. He'd get up late in the morning and hang around
the house until it was time to go to work, at the most doing a little
shopping or maybe his laundry. When he worked mornings he could lead
a normal life, which meant having a proper dinner and maybe seeing
a movie and afterwards stopping in at a bar and having a couple of
beers. Mostly he stayed home and watched TV, which he figured was
what most people were doing with their time. He didn't mind working
nights on weekends since he had nothing special to do so sometimes
he switched with Mac at the end of the week and did two straight weekends
at night. He envied Mac, who it turned out had been in the Navy too.
He had married a waitress from a place down the street where he'd
tried to get a job before landing at the greasy spoon and they were
able to coordinate their schedules so they'd be together most of the
time. Their whole life seemed to revolve around getting their hours
straight. The waitresses