Working a job with no name

That makes me think of Yojimbo, or A Fistful of Dollars. One of the gigs I work is a cash-only business, and I’m just Mike. No last name, no past. I couldn’t tell you the surnames of any I work with, save two or three. And that’s a weird sensation.

You hide out at work like that. Someone on the run. Someone looking to reinvent themself. Someone covering up the outside life.

With a little digging, it’s easy enough to find a last name. It’s not witness protection. But it’s not the usual work either. It was just a little oddity in a world full of oddities.