It was one of the first paint jobs I had ever worked on by myself. I’d probably been a painter for less than a month. I was taking lunch and had left my brush and cut bucket sitting out in the sun. As I was munching away on a depressing bologna sandwich, some old scurvy lookin dude in a clapped out Honda Civic pulled up next to me and rolled down his window.

“Hey kid come here… You see that?”

He was pointing at the wall I was painting and also at my set up sitting there drying in the sun.

“There ain’t no money in that bucket kid. You gotta get that S#!t on the wall!”

Without another word he sped off.

He got me good.