In a lot of movies, people have unrealistic lifestyles in relation to their jobs. You know, barrista lives in a SOHO loft, shit like that.
But this movie wins. In it, Mike Myers drives a sweet convertible and has a rad apartment in San Francisco. Yet, all he does is recite the same-sounding poem with different words over the same jazz number at lame coffee houses. And, he only does it when he breaks up with a girlfriend or is psyched about a girl/wife. That’s it. Shitty poets get paid in coffee, right?
Plus, his dad is an immigrant, so it’s not like he has a trust fund.
Anyway, I just don’t they thought this out very well when they wrote the movie.
