The city based on Vegas, Albuquerque, and elsewhere - west side has this glitzy place that is unattached to the hub, takes a long drive. East side based on Albuquerque, Juan Tabo and gas stations, usually with Gallup H.S. acquaintances there. Up the middle, north and south, is that scary street - a good place walking to get beaten or murdered along the sidewalk, until you get far enough south it's like around Indian School Road in Albq.
So walking back from there, came to apt, and someone was waiting outside about a job. So I let him in with me, into my place that is just one tiny room, smaller than a bedroom, and surrounded by wire shelves of food.
I sit him at a small table, and he wants to hire me for Party Time. He needs to call the home office - all very retro because it's a landline phone, and he's referring to a position in a print newspaper. He calls. He writes down 18-19 on the paper while speaking. I don't know what the numbers refer to.
Bryan Lindenberger's Dream Log Project