Jimbo had a good attitude. Good personality. That's what everyone told him at least. Everyone being his friends, which he had a lot of. And this was all great up until a certain point. Because at a certain point having friends no longer mattered.
It's strange how what you give a damn about can shift so drastically. In high school all Jimbo had cared about was having friends. Having people who cared about him. But now all he cared about was money.
Not that he wanted to be rich or anything. No, he was broke. He just wanted enough money for rent, and proper food, and a couple nights out for some fancy dinners, and his subscription to Netflix, and gas for the car and insurance and his phone and internet bill. Was that too much to ask for? Apparently it was.
Jimbo worked as many hours as he could. But it was summer, and so the clientele had shrunk by about 40 percent. No matter how much you bash the students, when they leave you feel their absence. So Jimbo was stuck eating a mono diet of Ramen noodles and once in a while ground beef. He had tried coming up ways of reducing his spending. He couldn't increase his wages or his hours, but maybe he could cut costs. But as he went through the list of things he spent money on they all felt like necessities. Even Netflix, because how else would he cope with the reality of his meaningless life without the help of fictionalized drama?
-- Yes I'll have the truffle encrusted artichoke pizza, and could we also get some truffle fries as an appetizer?
-- Absolutely, sir. Coming right up.