Hence, we had a job for as long as there was no air conditioning.
For three weeks, Mike and I reported to Mrs. Martin and worked our three hours. By noon, our work was over, and she dropped three little dimes in each of our hands. Now
beats headphone, even at the age of 9 in the mid-1950s, 30 cents was not too exciting. Comic books cost 10 cents back then
marlboro reds, so I usually spent my money on comic books and went home.
By Wednesday of the fourth week, I was ready to quit. I had agreed to work only because I wanted to learn to make money from Mike's dad, and now I was a slave for 10 cents an hour. On top of that
newports cigarettes website, I had not seen Mike's dad since that first Saturday.
"I'm quitting," I told Mike at lunchtime. The school lunch was miserable. School was boring
cheap newport cigarettes, and now I did not even have my Saturdays to look forward to. But it was the 30 cents that really got to me.