My friend Fred suggests that I become a patent lawyer. This would require of me a three year course of study in one of the engineering disciplines followed by three years of law school. All to work in a field so boring that it has driven some to drink or worse. (And Fred tells me that you can't even use this to get girls.)
My friend Chaim tells me to become an office worker or lawn care expert. He feels that my accent and ethnicity will help me rise a lot farther than the average Mexican with whom I would be competing but then, Chaim has always been one of my biggest boosters.
My friend Rum wants me to chuck it all, move to Thailand, and become a man-about-town. But I dislike tropical weather.
My friend Fleivel wants me to go on welfare, and be what she calls a "mule," a job he says pays a lot. How a man can earn a living pretending to be a half-breed animal is beyond my thinking.
My friend Cathy no longer even tries to offer me useful advice. I fear that she has given up on poor Luke, and that she views me as something of an embarrassment to have around when her successful friends are near, sort of like an incontinent relative.
These people mean well, but they offer me nothing but talk and talk, as they say, is cheap. If you want to help me out, I suggest you drive by in a recent model car and offer me cans of food, furniture, clothes than fit, and, if you are really feeling generous, legal title to the vehicle you used to stop by. But if you don't want to help me, that's okay. I still am willing to help you.
