Got myself a apartment. Ain't too good but it's better than my cell at prison. Work is hard to come by since Ain't no one hirin a ex-con. I might have to get back with the gang again.
June 13, 1960
Was approached by a guy offerin me some work. The way he talked bout the Job made it clear that it tweren't legal. I told him no. He gave me his card just in case I changed my mind. Awfully temptin. $5,500 a year? Free room & board? Free food? Sounds too good to be true.
June 27, 1960
Rents comin up. Still no job. I'd hate to be sleepin on the streets. Still got that card. Do I call that guy?