"Hmm. I'm here to get payment for a job I did. Nothing as nice and helpful as giving people things they need, mind ya'. Let's not talk about it, wouldn't wanna mess up the good atmosphere we have, do we?" While it was true that killing a bandit leader wasn't exactly bad in anybody's books, killing in it's self was still a nasty, nasty job, and Jackson didn't want ruin the general good mood of the conversation. He was drunk, but he wasn't stupid enough to not know saying you kill people for a living wasn't a thing you said in polite company."That said, thinking of leaving here for another reason, get a job I'm not quite used to. Would be good to expand my horizons, I think." It was true, as he was fine with exchanging one man's life for his money, but would he be later on in life? Probably, but still. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, but he would prefer to waste his time learning a skill now, than waste around doing nothing later on.<br/><br/>These thoughts were soon replaced with more pressing matters, however. The matter of "holy shit look at that dog." He noticed the canine walking up to the bar with a woman he presumed was it's master, and he would have slammed some more money down to pay for her drink, because man did he like dogs, and those who owned them were probably alright. Same with the select few who had Molerats for pets, which he realized was why he had probably taken a quick liking to Michael. Problem was, as he reached into his pocket for more bottle caps, he had found he was out of money. "Ah hell." He muttered, grunting in annoyance. He had wisely set aside some for necessaries, but it was annoying to have run out of spending money already. He wasn't even tipsy yet! "Looks like I might be finding myself a new job earlier than I thought. They say it pays to be friendly, but it seems to me it costs ya sometimes." He figured he could easily get a job here, without much searching, but it didn't occur to him of the possibility of the opportunity walking up right next to him.<br/><br/>The man who was putting up the flyers outside strolled up to the counter, his face telling all who looked at him he currently hated his life and everything about it. "Hey, can I put one of these damn flyers up on your building? Some sort of advertisement for a job or s-HEY!"<br/><br/>As soon as the man said job, Jackson pulled one of the flyers out of his hand and placed it on the bar's count, so that Micheal could have read it if he had liked. Jackson himself quickly scanned it over, and he was quite pleased with what he red. He was able-bodied, he could shoot, he was reasonable sure he would want future job opportunities, and he was DAMN sure he wanted 300 caps. "Well buddy, I thank you for bringing this to my attention. I would buy you a drink, if I hadn't already brought drinks for damn near every person who walked into the bar since I got here. Tell me ya name, partner, so I can pay you back later."<br/><br/>"Give me back my flyer and stop talking to me." The man answered, giving Jackson a look of absolute annoyance as he snatched the flyer off of the bar.<br/><br/>"Fair enough!" Jackson smiled back at the man, sitting back down. A few of the other occupants of the bar gave him some looks, as he was being especially loud, but he didn't much care. "Well then, looks like I got me a new job already. There's probably a decent life lesson here. Waste all your money at a bar, and you'll get more money, or something like that."