I drummed my fingers on the table. I was growing impatient. I looked down at my watch. It was 4:20. Fifty minutes since I was supposed to first see the man in the suit at this freaking coffee shop. Ten minutes left. Suddenly I realized I wasted fifty freaking minutes of my life and it’s close to an hour. The coffee shop was full. I hate it when a place is full. I hate coffee too. I hate being in this area of town. This area of town is right by the dump, and the smell of dirty, tossed away possessions seeps into the smallest cracks of the coffee shop. Nobody seems to smell it. Everyone has a huge smile on their freaking face. It drives me crazy that I’m the only one who’s bothered by this smell. In my irritation I almost forget why I’m in this freaking coffee shop.
    My name is Barnaby Quint.  I just turned 24 this spring. I’m a huge sucker for a deal, the glue that holds my friends together, a huge nerd who loves to draw and jobless.  About four days ago, I was happily having a soda with my good friends: Juan Sanchez, Brick Lorcan, and Alfred Morrison. The conversation started with Juan making up some extravagant story about how he got promoted three times in one day in his office, got numbers from seventeen girls, and got free hot dogs for life at the local food stand.  Juan was my best friend. He had a huge ego, and made up stories, but had talent with socializing with those around him. He also had a laugh that could practically cure cancer. “That was so obviously a lie that you would lose every poker game for the rest of your life just because you’re so bad at lying,” declared Alfred. Alfred was the smartest person in our group, and he is also probably the smartest person I have ever met. He got us out of any trouble that we may have gotten ourselves in. Juan said in response to Alfred, “You’ll never be able to prove me wrong bro. Anyway, Barnster, how are things…”
“We agreed you’d never call me that again. Ever,” I said with all the seriousness I could convey with my face. “Fine, Mom. So Barnaby, found a job yet?” Juan said. “Nope,” I said with some sadness. “I know where you could get a job,” Said Brick. We all turned. Brick barely ever spoke, but he knew so many different people throughout the world, that whenever he did, it was always some extremely useful advice. “You do? Well, spill the beans mate.” We all said. Then Brick proceeded to weave a tale of a man in a suit that gave away unbelievable job opportunities. He would visit this specific coffee shop every week on a Thursday at any time between 3:30-4:30. So I waited till Thursday.  
     Now here I was. 1 minute 23 seconds till time would run out.  All hope was lost. Then at exactly 4:30… nothing happened. I waited. I punched the table. At the very moment I was mad because I wasted an hour. I punched the table again. I looked at myself. Then I realized then I was really mad at myself. I punched the table a third time. I was mad that I still hadn’t gotten a job in 2 months. So at that very moment I got up and decided I wouldn’t go home until I got a freaking job.
     And that’s exactly what happened. I went out there and got the job. It was at a small animation company that’s just starting out and I love it. It was fun, challenging, and was something that was interesting to me. It was everything I wanted in a job.
     A few days later I was hanging out with my friends again. I pulled Brick aside. I told him that there was no man in a suit. He spoke, “Yeah. There was never a man in a suit. I just knew that what you needed to get a job was to sit down somewhere and inspire yourself.” I couldn’t believe it. “Really?” I asked. With grin he answers, “Yep. Also you’re really gullible so even if it didn’t, I still got a kick out of making you sit at that terrible coffee place for an hour.”