Jim Crayson begins his first shift at the backwoods convenience store and realizes things weren't supposed to turn out like this. Sick of teaching logic at Midwestern colleges, Jim had taken his chances at starting over in Northern Florida. For now he just needs cash while he keeps looking for something permanent. The possibilities seem endless. Jim feels certain that any day now his degrees and experience will land him writing work--or at least a job with benefits. And then there's that shot he has at winning thousands on a quiz show. But it's no picnic dealing with this job and the people it involves. Will Jim watch his hopes dissolve into the seedy, violence-prone world he encounters at the store? Could his last sight be a customer pointing a gun at his head? Warkin is a bleakly comic portrayal of the real prospects for many who change careers and pursue their dreams.
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
ain‟t anyway asked beer began Benny Billie blunt cigar Brenda C-store can‟t cigarette Clara Clytemnestra coffee cops couldn‟t counter couple customers desk didn‟t want Doctor‟s Landing doesn‟t don‟t know door alarm electronic organizer eyes face feel felt figured Fred Flintstone front fucking glanced gonna Grab-n-Go hadn‟t hand He‟s head house boat I‟ll I‟ve It‟s Jim Jones Katie Kevin kids Kingsboro knew leaned Let‟s looked lottery Marta minutes move night nodded numbers Okay Paladin parking lot Pine Trail pinworms probably pulled Quiz Slam Russell Crowe scratch tickets second shift seemed she‟s Shelly shit smiled smirking smoke someone stared started stood stuff sure talk tell That‟s there‟s They‟d thing thought tickets tried trying turned voice Volker waiting walked wasn‟t watched we‟re window wondered y‟know Yeah yelled You‟re
Page 197 - This whole thing was a deal -breaker for me. I just didn't care anymore whether Don could pay me more, promote me, whatever. "You did just what you were supposed to do. You complied with the guy." Don was going into his lecture voice. "Worst thing somebody can do is to try to be a hero. Just give 'em the money.
Page 185 - Buttons down the front. . .uh— " "What color was the shirt?" "It, uh. . .It was light. . .It had a print pattern. Mostly a print pattern. Not sure what, um, c-color the pattern was... Maybe beige background?" I could see the guy in my mind. But it was like trying to look at someone in a dream. Your eyes don't cooperate. Or you are only able to see their face. "Any other description?
Page 252 - Don nearly yelled, pointing at me. "That's the guy!" "But the guy— the guy— had his face covered." Don waved his hands dismissively, shook his head as I spoke. "Then— tell me this— then, why did we both think it might be Number Four, then? Huh? Was that just aa... coincidence?
Page 2 - Jim had taken his chances at starting over in Northern Florida. But that was many months and many resumes ago. For now he just needs cash while he keeps looking for something permanent. The possibilities seem endless. Jim feels certain that any day now his degrees and experience will land him writing work— or at least a job with benefits.
Page 2 - This book is a work of fiction. Except for direct references to public figures, the names, characters and incidents herein are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual...
Page 320 - Me with the dropping out college, then the pot bust. ..I fkd up. Only so many places 4 me 2 go. No vertical. Plus u can 't quit the shitty jobs. Do that 2 many X then yr job history looks bad. Got u by the balls, the bosses. <Iskral903>: So here I sit, stinkin of cheez I didn't have much...
Page 31 - ... theater twice in the past fifty minutes. Ben was watching me do the daily data entry. I could hear his nose whistle intermittently behind my left shoulder. Whenever it did my eyes would defocus on the text on the screen and look at the reflection of Ben's head on the monitor glass. "What are the CRIND totals?
Page 100 - HEY! YOU!" said the voice again, yelling this time. The lottery machine booped again, not recognizing the winning card. I wheeled around. "Yes sir, how can I he—