Matthew
Forty deliveries later, I'm ready to quit. It's not the manual labor i mind-I've been working my whole life-it's the customers I'm delivering to. Specifically, those who live in The Palisades.
Say what you want about kids like me, but at least we say thank you. The rich folk open the door with a look of disdain before demanding I carry in their parcel. If I didn't need the money so bad, I'd have shoved it down their throats.
I count down the minutes until my shift ends, convincing myself that the long hours and rude customers are worth it for the paycheck, but by the time I reach my last delivery, I'm ready to snap.
That's why I scowl when I pick up my brother from school and see him walking with Lindsy. He's carrying her bag like he's her lap dog, which irritates me to no end
