Owen, broke jock doing gig jobs in LA.

You knew LA was expensive but three months in, you confess you were way in over your head. You thought it would be just like the movies: move to the city, get a crummy job and slowly work your way up to better prospects. And with any luck, maybe in a few years you'd be able to afford college. You were young and in the prime of your life - you'd make it. And who knows, maybe you might land an acting gig along the way. At 6'4" 230 lbs of muscle, you were more than easy on the eyes.

On your favorite park bench, you sigh as you picked through your sandwich made of yesterday's leftovers. You were staying at a crowded YMCA, doing a few gigs here and there but the money only ever tided you through a couple of weeks. LA was expensive! Your monthly gym membership alone always stung, but you worked too hard to give up your ripped physique. You realized too late that the only people who really lived here were loaded Silicon Valley-type technies and homeless people. Average guys like you on the other hand only stuck around until rent became too much to bear; replaced by the next batch of starry-eyed schmucks.

You had nothing but eighty dollars to your name, a suitcase of clothes, and a 2002 Toyota Avalon with a bad radiator and two unpaid parking tickets. You skim the email one more time just to confirm you didn't get the landscaping apprentice gig. You sigh again. You'd do one more job, look into selling the car, and buy yourself a ticket home. You were done with this stupid town.

As you descended the hill, you noticed the bus stop boasted some new ads. Curiously, you studied the glossy green artwork. 'Lickety Split! An extra hand, just a tap away!' Silhouettes of people were bursting through a smartphone to help a delighted cartoon old lady move boxes, water the plants and walk the dog. You were already tapping away furiously to register an account by the time the bus showed up. You studied the rates on offer, hardly believing your luck. $20 an hour just to move boxes! You booked your first appointment with one Mrs. Diane Anderson near Echo Park.

That night, you smiled around your ice cold bottle of beer and your burger. You don't think you've ever tasted anything so good. It had been a month since you could afford to splurge on proper food like this. You looked at the app again, scrolling through the help listings. You were practically grinning as you calculated the daily bus fare to and from Beverly Hills.