Chapter One
Turning 40 and then 50 years old didn’t really bother me, but turning 60 was something I just couldn’t accept. I ignored it the day it happened, or tried my best to do so despite my family and friend’s attempts to make sure I didn’t forget. Damn them. I was now one month past 60, and it still bothered me. The only good thing about it, I was just one year and eleven months away from social security. I grumbled around my tiny room, tapping the keyboards on my computers, bringing them out of sleep mode, and wishing I had something better to do with my life. Actually, anything at all would have been better since I was now doing nothing in the present time of my life. I was unemployed due to the stupidity of my former employers, an age-old problem for most good workers, and the state unemployment agency decided I didn’t qualify for benefits. Maybe it’s the fact that I had quit my job because I really hated it; possibly that was the reason I was denied compensation. I wrote a nice letter in response to their request for more info. I explained that my former employers were jerks , that they were just abusing my good nature and forcing me to abuse my car in the duty of my job. I had spent the last 22 months as a security guard driving my car around a large suburban Detroit Cadillac dealership from 7 P.M. at night until 6 A.M. the next morning, guarding car tires that were the main goal for addicts and the poor to steal. They would steal them right off the cars. It amazed me that they would run a huge risk of being caught by hauling in a heavy hydraulic jack, tire irons and concrete blocks to remove about 2-4 tires that they would sell for a couple hundred dollars. I was a good little trooper and managed to stop two attempts at theft, being told by my employer that I would get a whole twenty dollars as a reward, which I never did receive. Not the first lie they told.
