The smoke hangs in the air, drifting, just around and above Michelle and Grant's head. In the background the speakers softly play some blues. The bar is empty except for the two and the barkeep is out of sight somewhere in the kitchen.
Michelle: So, what do you do for a living?
Grant: I read books mostly.
Michelle: For a living?
Grant: Yeah. But you probably want to know how I earn my money.
Michelle: That's what I'm asking.
Grant: I'm a pilot, I rent out my own bush plane to those brave enough to try.
What about you? How do you make your money?
Michelle: I'm a receptionist. I answer phones, questions, and complaints all day.
Grant: What do you do for a living?
Michelle: I go to empty sports bars and drink with strangers.
Grant:That's a letdown.
Michelle: Why?
Grant: It seems like there's more than that.
Michelle:What can I say? I guess I'm not a very interesting person.
Grant: No, substance can't be faked. You've got something and it doesn't involve strangers in bars. What do you do for a living?
Grant holds this intense look in his eyes but his smile is soft and unassuming. Michelle looks around the bar and takes a moment to gather her thoughts. She'd been asking herself the same question lately, which is probably why she ended up here. “My work keeps me alive” she answered. Grant had thought as much. People were his living, and she would soon know that fact too. Grant stood up and plopped down a napkin with a number on it. “When you get tired of my question bugging you, give me a call, I'll see what I can do.” Grant let his sentence hang and walked out of the bar leaving Michelle to think.
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