So maybe this isn’t exactly where Dan Marcus thought he’d be at age 26, but when the economy tanks and those great jobs they promised you in cooking school don’t materialize and your parents abruptly decide to head west — yes, even farther west than Vancouver, Wash. — to hang with the grandkids, well, you do what you can.

So it is that on this particularly hot and humid June afternoon, Marcus once again finds himself standing on the corner of South Beretania and Piikoi streets, a large "America’s Mattress" placard hanging from a plain white string around his neck.

Marcus flashes a shaka sign to passing motorists with one hand. With the other he holds out a large yellow foam-core arrow to direct potential mattress-buyers to the small parking area in front of the store.

"It’s tedious," he allows. "Cloud watching is always good. And sometimes I try to figure out the lyrics to classic rock songs inside my head. But you also have to stay diligent. I mean, this is a job, y’know?"

This isn’t Marcus’ first gig as a waver. Last tax season he donned a green Statue of Liberty crown and gown in service to Liberty Tax Service at Puck’s Alley.

Marcus had hoped to become a chef. Back home in Washington, he attended cooking school, even worked a few kitchen jobs afterward.

"But the jobs didn’t last," Marcus says, "and the job market over there is dry as a bone."

Thus, when Marcus’ parents decided to move to Hawaii last year to be closer to Marcus’ brother and his two children, Marcus came along.

Marcus now spends four hours a day, three days a week out here beneath the miserable sun. His father sometimes looks at the tan lines left by his sunglasses and jokes that he looks like a racoon. But Marcus figures earning an honest wage is better than sitting around at home doing nothing.

And while the pay isn’t exactly stellar — he won’t be needing any sophisticated tax shelters this year — Marcus, who is waiting to hear about another part-time job, at a video store, figures having a little walking-around money can’t be a bad thing.

Most of all, he understands that all of this is temporary.

Someday soon Marcus hopes to scrape together enough money to buy a food truck and start a business preparing plate lunches specially designed for the local palate.

"They’ll have to have two scoops of rice and macaroni salad," he says with mock Anthony Bourdain-like authority.

Marcus reaches for the water bottle he keeps on a utility box nearby and takes a quick sip.

"But this is OK for right now," he says.

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Reach Michael Tsai at mtsai@staradvertiser.com.