Job Opportunity by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

The ad in the paper said: Job opportunity
and I took the train from Warden Station
into the city.

My bright-eyed sixteen year old self
looking for summer work.

Making the trek two blocks west along Yonge
listening to a cassette tape of William Burroughs
that a friend had given me.

The address was a hotel
and I took the elevator up to the seventh floor
knocked on the door
and entered.

I had only gone a few feet
when I realized there were two greasy middle aged men in there
with a single camera on a tri-pod
pointed at the bed.

Care for a drink?, the one closest the door asked.

I backed out of the room without a word
and took the elevator back down.

A good job was hard to find.
William Burroughs had been right.
Ours is a world of bottles and buggers.

When I got home
my mother asked if I gotten the job
and I told her
I wasn’t right for the part.

She gave me that look that said
I hadn’t really tried
and for once
I was happy that I
hadn’t.

Ryan Quinn Flanagan presently resides in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with an acute case of cabin fever after another long Canadian winter.  He dreams of warm places and warmer women.

Ryan Quinn Flanagan presently resides in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with an acute case of cabin fever after another long Canadian winter. He dreams of warm places and warmer women.

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