Gold skipped one day surfing the net at Storybrooke Coffee to go to a job interview. The position seemed mildly promising. Sure it was just another boring call centre, but the office was only one subway stop away from Bae's school.

He tried to get himself excited for the prospect, reminding himself that unlike the postering job, this would be warm and indoors for the winter. Also, the limits to his mobility could hardly be an issue with him working a phone. Plus, he was an actor and had a professionally trained voice. He was a shoo-in.

And then came the interview.

What a cluster-fuck.

The interviewer took one look at him with his limp and cane and started babbling something about the difficulty getting insurance for "someone like him." As if he was likely to re-injure himself using a bloody phone?

Had he been a calmer person, he might've tried to argue his case in a pleasant, deferential manner, but with all the frustrations piling up in his life and this last, best hope for not having to go crawling back to Milah hat in hand snatched away because of some stupid administrative bullshit, Gold sort of hit the roof.

He couldn't remember the exact details of everything he'd said to the interviewer, secretary and security guard who escorted him out of the building, but he was sure the words "cunt" and "wanker" featured heavily in the scenario.

Back in the coffee shop he was nearly gnawing on the cardboard lip of his coffee mug with rage, when someone sat down across from him at the table.

It was a large twelve person table, rectangular shaped and anyone could sit at it, however, the unwritten rule was that this table was for single, serious students at work, which only added to his surprise when the person sitting across from him exclaimed loudly, "My God! Is it you?"

Everyone's heads turned. Gold stared fixedly at his laptop.

Being located downtown near Allen Gardens ensured that the coffee shop was occasionally frequented by homeless people and unfortunate individuals of questionable sanity.

Whenever he saw one of them, all Gold could think about was what a short step it would be for him to graduate to one of their number.

He tried not to make eye contact and hoped the person left him alone. Today, of all days, he just didn't need this, but it was not to be.

"It is you!" cried out the man.

The voice was strangely familiar. Against his better judgement Gold looked up.

"Gold?" asked the man, in a voice full of emotion. It was Jefferson.