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There is a special part of Hell I'd like to reserve for those arses that order every single Sunday paper. Do you know how heavy that makes the bundle of papers some poor kid (ie me) has to lug around? Funny how your papers always seemed to get mangled in your letterbox...
I loved my paper round, but, looking back, I was getting paid peanuts to ruin my back and cycle around in the cold and dark. How were you exploited as a child?
( , Fri 17 Feb 2006, 12:05)
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I used to do what is called Sticking Up, where in my area, people play skittles, not the kind with the ball on a string, but like ten pin bowling on a wooden alley. No machines to pick the pins up and return the balls, but the Sticker Up. 2 1/2 hours of work in a pub during the week picking up skittles for the same money as a week's paper round. And i used to get a couple of pints of shandy as well. By the time i was 16, i was doing this work 5 nights a week , doing all of my homework in pubs, and was for a schoolboy at the time, fucking loaded. Only now do i realise that my parents allowed me to spend most of my teenage evenings in the pub breathing in fag smoke and as i got older coming home more and more pissed. It was the perfect training ground for drinking and pubettiquette.
( , Fri 17 Feb 2006, 14:40, Reply)
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