Factotum

Claude knew that his life was meaningless

but he could never manage to save up enough box tops

to send away for the document giving him permission to kill himself.

He spent every evening after work decomposing on the couch until

his girlfriend delivered an ultimatum: that he find himself a hobby, or forfeit

all bedroom privileges. Claude fought her at first;

he had always looked down upon such useless pursuits

as stamp collecting and model train enthusiasm.

But desperation and the limits of self-gratification

made him at last attempt to discover some new interests.

Poking around on the internet, he came across

some old black-and-white footage of a hamster beating a drum, and grew

obsessed with it, watching it repeatedly until it took on the significance

of a religious icon in his mind. He even built a small temple to the rodent

which he accidentally burnt down while lighting some sticks of incense.

Disillusioned, he turned to the stock market for solace,

making wild investments in companies like Jell-O and Snapple.

He tried to start a James Woods fan club in his basement

but not even the promise of free Jell-O was enough to entice anyone to attend.  

Finally, he started buying antique barber poles from auctions.

He had them mounted on the front of his house, dozens of them,

along with a sign declaring This is NOT a barber shop,

this is a private residence. Please do not block the driveway

to alleviate any confusion. His girlfriend was less than impressed

by his efforts to fill his life, but Claude didn’t care.

He didn’t have time for her now anyways.