Child LabourThere 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?
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chthonic, Fri 17 Feb 2006, 12:05)
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There was this one house on my paper roundthat I hated delivering to. It was this huge old victorian mansion with big high fences and trees that blocked out the light, so the garden was always dark. They had this horrible rottweiler and every time you went in you ran the risk of being ripped to shreds.
So this one morning I'm taking them their church times, making my way up the path, and as I get to the door I find the scariest sight I've ever seen in my life. No, not the rottweiler. NAKED OLD MAN!
"Good morning" He said.
"Morning" I replied, handed over the paper and went on my merry way.
(, Mon 20 Feb 2006, 22:25, Reply)
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