I had just done 30 days in the

madhouse

and rented a room for

$500 at a halfway house.

the room next to mine

always smelled

like piss.

I tried to scrub the door

down and the floor in front of

the door.

it didn’t do any good.

one day, there was a sign in

a shoe store window,

HELP WANTED. I went

in with my resume.

the woman working was

dressed to

the nines

in a cream dress and

heels so sharp they could

cut you clean.

she took one look at me

and knew

I wasn’t right for the job.

she let me talk to the manager

anyway.

I told him I loved shoes. I’ve

always loved shoes. there’s nothing

else I’d rather sell.

as a matter of

fact, I also love sales. I’ve

always loved sales.

he looked down at my shoes. I

knew then I didn’t fool him.

the woman walked me

out the door.

they never called.

a week later, I got a job

working nights at a gas

station. the drunks would

come in,

and sometimes

we’d smoke together.

for a while, I wondered

what the lady with the

expensive shoes did

at night in her

nice house, drinking

french wine, lots of

meat and cheese

and good tv like

HBO.

in the morning,

I’d go back to

my room, flop down on

the mattress,

and try to forget

the smell of piss.