Do Janitors Have a Separate Life of Their Own?

A scruffy white beard descends from the face of a 68-year-old man wearing a deep blue janitor's suit with a white name tag lined with red that reads Joe. With a small limp in his left knee, his soft blue eyes, that say otherwise, watche swiftly as high schoolers transition from one class to another. Some kids might say "Hi" or "How are you today?" but little did they know that Joe was a very lucky man. He's not just that average white haired janitor with a hunch in his back or a limp in his leg. Every Thursday, Joe would drive down in his old '69 camero to Atlantic City. He'd visit a few casinos and gamble a little here and there. He'd celebrate with a slight smirk, shoulders back and huddled over a small glass of Coca-Cola on a bar stool. Again, he'd observe the youth of today, recognizing the changes that didn't exist back in his day. He would leave with twice the amount he arrived with and became pretty rich off of a few games. The next morning, it was back to the normal routine of a high school janitor.