"The summer after high school, my best friend and I worked a few days for a tourist attraction, long since defunct. It featured a chairlift up a mountain to a western town with saloon girls and gunslingers. There were plenty of jobs working in the stores, operating the lift, picking up litter. But, of course, we applied to be gunslingers. All they had to do was stage a dramatic fight once an hour, and in between just saunter around looking cool in jeans and bandanas and cowboy hats. The job we got, though, was digging out a collapsed mine. Mica, maybe. It was going to become a cave with a hillbilly moonshine still in it. Rocks kept falling from the ceiling, and we didn’t even have helmets. The third snake we pulled out, we dropped our shovels and took the chairlift down the mountain, never to return."