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The monster jobs broke almost immediately. After brushing up on a few knockouts, it was off to Lawrence Welk’s for an 80-unit. Then a two-lift monster in Oceanside, then a three-lift monster in Corona,
"You’re thinkin’, ‘Uh-oh, this guy’s gonna start askin’ me any minute what the problem is, and if I don’t have the answer. I’m in trouble. I’m gonna look foolish.’ So you gotta withstand that kind of pressure.”
“I got Starkist Charlie’s lunch kit and crackers.” “Do you have a sandwich?” “No, I don’t like sandwiches. Had a cantaloupe and Double-Tough Oreos.” “Double-Tough?” “Double-Tough.” “None of this Twinkie shit, just hard-ass Oreos.” “You got it.”
I got a phone call from Bruce, a housepainter in Fallbrook. Bruce owned a two-story rental unit in East San Diego, and his tenant had moved out. He needed help getting it ready for the next lucky person.
Garry does not involve himself in the human side of this job. He does not speak to the people. The human dramas, when they occur, don’t touch him. He lifts, he carries. He doesn’t look or listen.
Ernie Ernie, 23, is a musician disguised as a milkman. He's an aspiring percussionist who makes his living in a drive-through dairy. By his own admission, the chores are elementary and tedious: stocking, waiting on …