They had returned from the sea only a day or so ago, and he was already feeling the city starting to stick to his skin again. Before bailing out for a few days, he had arrived here as a courier, delivering some package of something that the contractor didn't want DHL to handle. The pay had been decent, so they still had some funds left, but with the new flat, that money wouldn't last forever.
He had been walking the streets for some hours, and was now resting a bit in a cafe, nursing his cuppa. He had nothing against coffee, he just didn't drink it.
Browsing through Hathian sites for job opportunities on his vanilla laptop (his real one was safely stowed away), he frowned. Being a Transporter worked well when you were a drifter with few expenses, but now he needed a more regular income, even if it wouldn't be even a tenth of what he could make in that profession.
Not too much call for a slightly senior bush pilot that had decades of experience of making engines run despite an acute lack of spare parts, though.
Modern cars were all computers.. Maybe some bike workshop or perhaps try at the hospital, to see if they would need a jack of all trades mechanic of some sorts.