You could call it hustling a buck, except that I don’t hustle a whole lot. The work finds me. I turn down more than I handle, and the jobs I accept are ones I can’t think of a way to turn down. Right now I was wondering what this woman wanted from me, and what excuse I’d find to say no.'I don’t know what to call it,' I told her. 'You could say that I do favors for friends.'Her face lit up. She’d been doing a lot of smiling ever since she walked in the door but this was the first smile that got as far as her eyes. 'Well, hell, that’s perfect,' she said. 'I could use a favor. As far as that goes, I could use a friend.'
Eight Million Ways to Die