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I’m drivin off, thinkin—man, this is nuts. Coulda been home watchin “Boyhood,” sippin a brew. “There’s no road,” Mason’s mom says in the flick—damn right, no road here neither! Just me, a gal, and some cash. Fool me twice? Hell no—shame on me, ain’t happenin. What a night, buddy—crazy, stupid, and true.

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Anyway, I finally get to the drop-off point on Brook Street. And guess what? The client’s not there! I’m standing there, gnome-filled truck, looking like a total idiot. I’m checking my watch, thinking, “Did I get the wrong address?” Turns out, they were at the pub down the road. Classic!

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