Another Page From My Memoir

A work in progress

The cellphone carrier cut off my phone soon after I arrived in Minneapolis. They wanted the bill paid, for some reason. It took a few weeks, but I found a security guard job. I knew it wouldn’t work out, but I gave it my best.

  I never could keep a job for any length of time. I would do well in the interview, but I would get fired sooner or later. I was in my thirties, and I had lost another job, and Mom and Dad had had enough.