It's so much more than just a job.

"Remember son. Make your life a story worth retelling. "
Made sense to me. So I hit the road as a journeyman craftsman. I shopped the shops.
I lived in a camper van, a squat, a run down farmhouse, a garden shed. Shacked up with a horny AF New Yorker for a while. Italian stock. I got ripped off, run off, run for cover, seduced by lonely wives. Haunted by an ex who married some sleazy lawyer on the rebound. Never a dull moment in America.
You really don't need to take drug's there. The country itself is on speed. 24/7.
I moved there for the wild spaces and job opportunities. I went west for the same reason as everyone else. It was every bit as wild as the movies and worse/better. 
A family friend came to visit. Ex Brit army officer. Want to shoot some gun's I asked ?
We went to the nearest gun shop and I bought 44 magnum rounds over the counter, no questions asked. He couldn't believe it.
Went to the gravel pit and took aim at the usual targets. His Dirty Harry impersonation was inevitable...
Minimum wage teaches you to be very resourceful and nobody pays worse than American bosses. They like to add Insult to injury too. So you know your place. Trailer trash. But you bend to the wind and bide your time. You learn from THEIR mistakes.
You take notes. You build a library of experience based data. By the time your ready to go it alone you know what to do.