Richard Gets a Real Job

“You mean you’ve taken a real job?” Lola said, as she loaded groceries into the trunk of Richard’s car.

“Yes, if that’s what you want to call it, but my other jobs are "real" jobs, too,” Richard crankily protested.

“Yeah, but you haven’t had more than two performances during your entire career as a comedian, and writing poetry isn’t any kind of a job at all.”

Richard shut the car’s trunk, shrugged, and looked at Lola sheepishly.

“So what’s this new job, and when do you start?”

Richard’s cowering look gave way to a smile, as he somewhat proudly announced, “I’m a chauffeur, and I started driving---one of those long black limousines--- for one of the big studios in the Valley, just last Tuesday.”