my meeting with Tom or Knowing What Sounds Too Good

I never make the most of my time. I should. There will be plenty of time to rest later on, in eggshell white antiseptic rooms with tubes and jello. However these days I think a lot more than anything else, besides work.
Work is essential and at the same time antagonizing, it is the ultimate love/hate relationship. When I was destitute and almost on the street, due to our lovely medical as well as health care system being composed of a bunch of elite fuck ups, finding a job was my main goal. I remember being approached by a man one day while killing time in a friends store. The man, sporting nice clothes, was picking up a decent watch at the shop and began to talk to us. This conversation, at first over mundane things, began to turn to that of employment. He mentioned that he wanted to meet up with me to discuss my future employment with his company at 9am at a coffee shop in town. Having no car I walked to the coffee shop in a suit and tie, the whole while thinking how much I really needed this job and maybe, just this once, a random thing that I hear happening to others would happen to me: the right place/right time syndrome. I arrived, starving and sweaty and waited for him. He arrived in a nice brand new Mercedes only adding to the hopes that this could be the real thing. We proceeded to sit down and discuss my future employment. As he opened his folder and began to talk to me I came to the realization that this was a sham...not a full time job and not a reputable company. He started the conversation with "I know you need a job and I think you have potential.." and I stopped listening around the point of "..I mean my wife owns a heating oil business, inherited, so that's where the money comes from...(points out to car..and I looked at down at mine, wingtips from Sals Boutique)" He called me several times trying to get me go to various functions, said I owed it to him. I declined each time and eventually he disappeared back into the very shadows he came from.
Wonder how his Mercedes, bought with his wifes inheritance, is holding up? My wing tips are just fine...