‘You’re going to have to get a job our Jimmy and give up this daft idea you’re going to be a rock star. I can’t keep you on the money I make,’ said his mother as she slipped into her candy striped overall in readiness for the cleaning night shift at O’Malley’s plastic mouldings.
Jimmy threw himself backwards on the sofa and groaned. It was the same story every night when he got up to go jamming in one of the clubs. He didn’t dare ask her for some cash while she was in this mood. There was something different about her, like a new determination in her jaw. He didn’t like the way her normally blue eyes were flashing sparks of steel as she left the house.
Pulling up his jeans with the designed rips in the knees, he went into the kitchen for a can of lager but the fridge was empty. Jimmy banged his hands on the counter top and swore violently.
A few days later he tried to unlock his front door to find it had stuck.
‘Ma. Let me in,’ he called through the letter box. ‘I’m freezing.’
He peered through the window and shouted, ‘Ma! I’ll bust the door in then.’
As he put his shoulder to the wood, his mother opened it and watched him fall into the hallway.
‘Get a job by the end of the week or pack your stuff. I’ve got your suitcase down.’
‘Don’t be daft. I’ve got no-where to go.’
‘’Not my problem anymore. You’re twenty six and a man.’
Jimmy knew she was serious. If he really must get a job then it had to be in a record shop or something to do with music. Smartening himself up he walked the length of Dublin hoping his charm would make up for an empty resume. It was the same story. No experience, no qualifications, no manners in one case when he lit up a cigarette in the middle of an impromptu interview.
Panic was setting in. He tried talking to his mother but she stood impassively in the kitchen, making herself a sandwich without offering him one. His wash basket was overflowing and in desperation he had to wash a pair of boxers in the bathroom sink.
Angry and hurt, he grabbed a handful of biscuits and stormed off towards the city centre and sat in Wino Park where the drunks congregated. He shook his head at the offer of a swig from a bottle when his eye caught sight of a red and yellow sign on the opposite side of the road. LINO RICHIE – for all your flooring needs.
Jimmy pulled out his phone and with the last bit of credit called the number to see if they had any jobs going. He punched the air when they said yes. He knew exactly how he was going to answer the phone and began humming Hello... is it me. ..la la la.