Tuesday, January 30, 2007 10:42 p.m. Finally home. Just had dinner. Had to hit the store and grab some food. Papers barely sold, and my socks weren't enough. All wet. Bought a spare pair at Walgreens. Ran into Jim, who was on the way home today. Fired. He rides, or rode the West line that headed back and forth from Olgivie to La Fox. He wanted it to be political. His gripe is always moaning about politics. Blame the president. Blame his coworkers. Jim is one of those. The fact is, as a Metra ticket taker, he stunk. He was slow, and flirted too much and too long with every short skirt heading to the western suburbs. He says the boss thought he was taking money on the sly, but who knows? It is pretty cheap to steal train fares. What's Bush got to with the train anyway? Clinton, same thing. Nothing. Maybe Daley, but it isn't the mayor's fault Jim's brain is stuck in high school. He forgets about the long term, like his boss is against him, like he thought the teacher ...
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