Tom (dazed) What? Liquorice? (Looking around busily.) I guess we’ve chewed all the liquorice in. We still got Clove, Peppermint, Doublemint, Beechnut, Teaberry and Juicy Fruit.

Joe Liquorice used to be my favourite. Don’t worry about her, Tom, she’ll be all right. You really want to marry her, don’t you?

Tom (nodding) Honest to God, Joe. (Pathetically.) Only, I haven’t got any money.

Joe Couldn’t you be a prizefighter or something like that?

Tom Naaah. I couldn’t hit a man if I wasn’t sore at him. He’d have to do something that made me hate him.

Joe You’ve got to figure out something to do that you won’t mind doing very much.

Tom I wish I could, Joe.

Joe (thinking deeply, suddenly) Tom, would you be embarrassed driving a truck?

Tom (hit by a thunderbolt) Joe, I never thought of that. I’d like that. Travel. Highways. Little towns. Coffee and hot cakes. Beautiful valleys and mountains and streams and trees and daybreak and sunset.

Joe There is poetry in it, at that.

Tom Joe, that’s just the kind of work I should do. Just sit there and travel, and look, and smile, and burst out laughing. Could Kitty go with me, sometimes?

Joe I don’t know. Get me the phone book. Can you drive a truck?

Tom Joe, you know I can drive a truck, or any kind of thing with a motor and wheels.

Tom takes Joe the phone book. Joe turns the pages.

Joe (looking) Here! Here it is. Tuxedo 7900. Here’s a nickel. Get me that number.

Tom goes to telephone, dials the number.

Tom Hello.

Joe Ask for Mr Keith.

Tom (mouth and language full of gum) I’d like to talk to Mr Keith. (Pause.) Mr Keith.

Joe Take that gum out of your mouth for a minute.

Tom removes the gum.

Tom Mr Keith. Yeah. That’s right. Hello, Mr Keith?

Joe Tell him to hold the line.

Tom Hold the line, please.

Joe Give me a hand, Tom.

Tom helps Joe to the telephone.

Joe (at phone, wad of gum in fingers, delicately) Keith? Joe. Yeah. Fine. Forget it. (Pause.) Have you got a place for a good driver? (Pause.) I don’t think so. (To Tom.) You haven’t got a driver’s licence, have you?

Tom (worried) No. But I can get one, Joe.

Joe (at phone) No, but he can get one easy enough. To hell with the union. He’ll join later. All right, call him a Vice President and say he drives for relaxation. Sure. What do you mean? Tonight? I don’t know why not. San Diego? All right, let him start driving without a licence. What the hell’s the difference? Yeah. Sure. Look him over. Yeah. I’ll send him right over. Right. (He hangs up.) Thanks. (To telephone.)

Tom Am I going to get the job?

Joe He wants to take a look at you.

Tom Do I look all right, Joe?

Joe (looking at him carefully) Hold up your head. Stick out your chest. How do you feel?