The Vegan Van
When I was 14, I got my first ever job. I got paid £40 a day and for this princely sum, I got to travel up to a market in East London, set up the food van, make and cook all the food, serve, clean the fucker down at the end of the day, get abuse hurled at me, and then, weary and smelling of falafel, get funny looks on the train home. And all of this, I did on my own, at 14 years of age.

It was a piss take. Which I soon realised. And I was lonely.
So I employed my younger sister (who was 10)for £8 a day, out of my 40 to help.

The the horrible rat-faced bitch boss decided that I had been stealing and that I'd have to get an official warning. I hadn't been stealing. But I'd been accused and punished, so I thought I may as well benefit...

So my sister and I would randomly shut the van (usually at lunchtime, so we didn't have to deal with the rush) and take tupperware pot which constituted the till and go clothes shopping in the market....

The netball-playing militant bitch called me over and said that she knew I was stealing. I replied;

"Yes, I am. But the last time you asked I wasn't and I still got punished. And you have no proof because you don't have a proper till you cheap bitch."

I started walking away, and my little sister turns round and snipes;

"Yeah, and we quit, Fatty!"

Bless...

We were such lovely children...
(Ryfelwr can't stop here... this is bat country, Thu 22 May 2008, 15:08, Reply)