He should get up at 7 a.m. to the pangs of hunger. Or maybe to the thumping of the landlord's fist on the door to his run-down apartment, or maybe the sounds of coughing at the shelter, or the maddening itch of a thousand mosquitoes in the woods.
(Let's not go that far. Say he still has his apartment that his wife banished him to for "losing" his job.)
He should walk over to the moldering couch with his breakfast, a cup of coffee from last night in his hand, turn on television if he still has one, and enjoy the local news - featuring Rick Scott pretending to work a job somewhere. A job the common unemployed man would scream, just scream bloody murder to get.
Let him repair to the shower. No soap? No problem, there's still some Dawn under the sink. Toothpaste? Baking soda. Necessity being the mother of invention.
Maybe Rick Scott could then check his messages, if he still has a cell phone. He can listen to his (former?) wife crying, howling for him to pay his child support; to come up with a solution to a cornucopia of problems facing the new nuclear family (mom and kids, dad parts unknown) the corporatocracy is creating throughout the American landscape.
Perhaps she waits for the sick child in need of antibiotics, outside the doctor's office without a stitch of insurance to pay for the visit, or the medication that will be prescribed. Maybe the lights have been turned off at home; she's in a panic at a bus station the children in tow having brought them to work with her, to the consternation of her employer. Maybe the sheriff's department is at the door on eviction day. Where will she go? No one has answers. He makes no sounds down the line. She hangs up after screaming at him for his uselessness.
Next, if he has the money for a bus, he can with thumping headache, make for his first destination a Solantic Walk In Care Center, there to take a drug test in order to continue to qualify for food stamps which will be sent back home.
McDonald's of course, with a stack of resumes in hand, highlighting his skills; detailing his last job as a sales manager at a major food chain; or perhaps he was a junior insurance claims adjuster, or perhaps he was a nurse at the local public hospital. Maybe he was an ESOL teacher, or a social studies instructor and driver's ed teacher, all of course, none of these skills will translate to the position of fry cook at the local fast food schlep-stand and everyone in the equation knows it; especially the hiring manager.
And of course there is that college degree and that master's in education working against him now. He's "overqualified" not to mention too old. And he's been out of work for two years. So it's down to the strip mall, door to door. No. No one wants him at Belk Lindsey. No one wants him at Kohls. No one wants him at Marshall's. No one wants him. No one.
With resources dwindling, let Rick Scott then hitch back to his apartment feeling lightheaded and thoroughly demoralized. There, just in time to take nutrition in the last dregs of a liter bottle of Diet Coke, and a slice of cheese on some moldy bread.
So with one last comfort to him, let him turn on the television news again, to see a segment about his alternate universe self brag about tax breaks to so and so corporation, to see his alternate self pump a fist to mythical projected "jobs" as if they exist now; right goddamn now! When everyone knows the factory in question is yet to be created; the roads, the pipes, the other services the dregs of his own property taxes are paying for, won't be in place for more than a solid year.
By which time so and so corp. could just as easily bring talent in from out of state, or out of the country. Or they could claim their plans changed; exigencies of a down market course. You all understand the needs of "job creator" Corporation So and So come first these days in the new Florida. What are you some sort of socialist? Are you a commie? And who's to stop them from not hiring a single soul?
Certainly not Rick Scott in the governor's mansion, who by which time will have long ago filed those "new jobs" in the win column, and of course used them as a basis for more tax cuts, for more corporations, for more "job creation".
Let Rick Scott then lay his head on that dusty pillow with the knowledge that tomorrow, he will have to get up and do it again. And on that next day he knows he will hear the denigrating and snide remarks on every television he passes by - the cynical, blistering chides from a thousand experts from the GOP and the Tea Party - urging him to just get off his ass, and get a job.
And the biggest voice in that chorus of oblivious "let them eat cake" hatred, will be that of Rick Scott.