My first task is to find a place to live. I am "baby," "honey," "blondie," and, most commonly, "girl." In this parallel universe where my father never got out of the mines and I never got through college,
Happily, though, my fears turn out to be entirely unwarranted: duringĪ month of poverty and toil, no one recognizes my face or my name, which goes unnoticed and for the most part unuttered. I am terrified, especiallyĪt the beginning, of being recognized by some friendly business owner or erstwhile neighbor and having to stammer out some explanation of my project. Soon realize, is that it's not easy to go from being a consumer, thoughtlessly throwing money around in exchange for groceries and movies and gas, to being a worker in the very same place. Mostly out of laziness, I decide to start my low-wage life in the town nearest to where I actually live, Key West, Florida, which with a population of about 25,000 is elbowing its way up to the status of a genuine city.
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