Money for Nothing (Nothing but Being Awesome!)

I wrote this one on Halloween. It's the only song I've ever written on a guitar, but I just realised that it sounds pretty awesome on the piano too. 

Alright. So. It’s Friday night, and I’m returning from a trip to the local falafel shop. Actually, there are restaurants in my area that could be more fitting bearers of the title “local falafel shop”, but sometimes vague notions compel me to travel across slightly greater distances for a sandwich. There are still a few blocks between my apartment and me, and I’m realising that I won’t actually have time to eat before I go to work.

At that moment, a man runs up and grabs me. A drunk man. Obviously.

“You’ve got to come back to my place.”

He says this to me in what could effectively be imagined in a crude Doc Brown style.

“Not now, man. I’ve got to get to work.”
“Why do you have to go to work?”
“I need money.”
“I have money.”

He pulls out a collection of bills.

“Oh?”
“Come back to my place.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I’ll tell you when we get to my place.”

He gestures vaguely towards an apartment across from Spadina Station’s western entrance in a way that might not be meaningful at all. I give him my card because I believe in networking even in the most awkward situations. I’ve probably given my card to people who have openly expressed abject hatred for me. The glory of Jaymes Buckman shall be restricted to none. This is a core tenet of my ideology.

“Alright. I’m going to work.”

He gives me $10 and walks off in the direction of the indicated building as I continue on my own path.

“Come back to my place.”

Clearly, I don't.

In any case, I earned half of my night’s income by doing nothing. Actually, toss that. I got it by being awesome. That’s how we’re saying it.

Understand?