Yesterday was the refugee BBQ for all of us who have been laid off. It got pretty crazy towards the end, what, with all the alchohol and smokes and unemployed layabouts getting their ya-ya's out. Chris lives across from the train tracks and the expressway. I spent a lot of time hanging out with Paul's son Sammy, pointing out trucks and trains and cleaning popsicle juice off of him. The best moment of the night came later, when Rich, who I was seeing for the first time without a clean shave, pointed to a train and hollered: "Quick, guys! A train going West! I hear there's jobs out there!"
