Get home from spending two weeks in Thailand and Nepal. Nice tan from lying on the beach at Koh Samui, duffle bag full of stuff picked up cheap on the street in Kathmandu. Good vacation, but broke now. Money from mortgaging kidneys almost gone, mailbox full of bills and disconnect notices. Time to find work again.
Call agent, leave a message on her machine. She calls back that afternoon. We talk about the trip a little bit; tell her that I'm sending her a wooden mask. Likes that, but says she's busy trying to broker another couple of rats for experiments at Procter & Gamble. Asks why I'm calling.
Tell her I'm busted. Need work soon. Got bills to pay. She says, I'll work on it, get back to you soon, ciao, then hangs up on me. Figure I'll send her the ugliest mask in my bag.
Jet-lagged from spending last twenty-four hours on airplanes. Sleep a lot next two days, watch a lot of TV in between. Mom calls on Tuesday, asks me where I've been for last month. Says she's been trying to find me. Don't tell her about Koh Samui and Kathmandu. Tell her I'm in night school at local college. Remedial English and basic computer programming. Learning how to do stuff with computers and how to read. She likes that. Asks if I got a job yet. About to lie some more when phone clicks. Got another call coming in, I say. Gotta go, bye. Just as well. Hate lying to Mom.
Agent on the phone. Asks if my legs are in good shape. Hell yeah, I say. Just spent ten days hiking through the Annapurna region, you bet my legs are in good shape. What's the scoop?
She say, private test facility in Boston needs a rat for Phase One experiments. Some company developing over-the-counter ointment for foot blisters. Need someone in good physical condition to do treadmill stuff. Two week gig. Thank you can handle it?
Dunno, I say. Got a few bruises on thighs from falling down on rocks a lot. How much they pay? A hundred bucks a day, she says, minus her 15 percent commission. Not bad. Not great, but not bad either. Ask if they're buying the airplane ticket. She say, yeah, tourist class on Continental. I say, gee, I dunno, those bruises really hurt. First class on TWA would make them feel better. Says she'll get back to me, ciao, and hangs up.
Turn on TV, channel surf until I find some toons. Dumb coyote just fell off cliff again when agent calls back. She say, business class on TWA okay? Think about trying to score box-seat ticket for a Red Sox game, but decide not to push my luck. Bruises feel much better, I say. When do they want me?
She say two days, I say okay. Tickets coming by American Express tomorrow, she says, but don't tell them about bruises, all right? Got no bruises, I say. Just wanted to get decent seat on the plane.
Calls me a name and hangs up again. Doesn't even say ciao this time. Decide not to send her a mask at all. Let her go to Kathmandu and buy one herself.
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