Back in the day I was working shares in the marine salvage buisaness in LA Harbor, CA. It was a shoestring operation, our tubboat was built in 1917, our wood barge before WW2. Often, we'd have a week with no income, so I'd be sleeping on the tug, revolver under the pillow, in Fish Harbor across from San Pedro. Some days, I'd eat only once at Joe Biff's Cafe on Terminal Island. But I was working and learning a very hard trade, and that was enough at the time.
When I was eventually drafted, life was much easier.