They met at an old dive bar -- one of those tiki joints that were popping up all over America during the 50s and 60s. The place was perfect for the low lifes, wise crackers and hard-luck losers that these guys were. They met here to scheme. And drink lousy Mai Tais. No sense in the Mai Tais being any good. Johnny slumped into the place late in the evening to meet these guys about a job. Boy, had this mug had it bad. He dropped all he had on the counter for one of those lousy Mai Tais. Things'll be different after this job, Johnny thought. This job would get him out from under. Who's that dame at the other end of the bar? Johnny wondered. Soon Johnny'd be able to afford a dame like that. That kinda dame don't even give a guy like Johnny a brush off. She'd have to acknowledge him to be able to do that. But that'd all change. After this job. Johnny plodded over to the other end of the bar. Said hello to the dame, picked up her drink. In the end, the copy writing job those guys had for Johnny wasn't even gonna pay his tab. The dame knew that. Johnny finished his Mai Tai alone. Maybe, Johnny realized, writing just doesn't pay.