Pete sipped more beer. Actually there was no more beer left. But he kept bringing the can to his mouth and putting the beer slightly in his mouth before letting it go back into the can. This way he could continue sipping without cracking another can open. He was just slurping his own spit by now.

He actually didn't hate artists. He liked the work they did. What he didn't like was when artists made money. If they wanted to be creative they should be broke. Leave the real paychecks to the people who did real work. That's why whenever he saw Jack's roommate he wanted that guy to keep making stuff, but never be able to make money. That's how Pete thought the world ought to be. Pete smiled and took another sip and spit as he saw Jack starting to pick up his stride.

It had been two hours since the diner. Jack at first was dragging his feet. Too much mass uptop, not enough below. The kid should start squatting more Pete thought. Just as he thought that someone typed the same thought into the chat. "bro needs to do legs"

Pete liked kids like Jack though. Kids who were finding themselves. You usually had to have parents with some money to find yourself. If your parents were poor you sort of didnt' have the time to find yourself. Had to go to work fast.