So I was there talking to Alexis last night after she said to me that her new lass (Helen, 15) she has hired, for the shop Alexis has taken over and is now running, had a dream that Alexis had stabbed her.
After laughing about it, I said 'You know when she grows up being her first job and all she will remember that for the rest of her life, and she will tell her friends about dreaming of her boss stabbing her with a knife.'
Alexis looked mortified as I laughed hard, then it got me thinking because clear as day I remember my first jobs.
'What were they?' She said.
'The paper-run and the milk-run.' It was her turn to laugh out loud.
'Hey, I was pretty young... 12-13, did you have a job when you were that young?' I questioned with her shaking her head and a profound 'No'.
'Ahhhh yes I remember like it was yesterday.....'
And I lit up a cigarette sat in my rocking chair and away I went..........

My first job was the paper-run. It existed from a corner shop outside Minto train station where I never frequented because it was never where I went unless Craig was going there and I usually bought too many King Cobra snakes (confectionary), but I knew a paper route existed there.

Being young and ambitious of making money because my parents enforced the rule of 'not too much pocket money go get yourself a job' from an early age (yes they finally gave in and gave lunch money in the later years of high school). I set out on pursuing my hearts desire on scoring this ill fated route because Jack, a mate at school had told me one of the lads (little did he tell me there was only Jack and this other guy doing paper routes) was leaving and the shop owner was looking for a kid with a bike.

Har Har... fresh looking do it yourself BMX was awaiting to be strapped with a light brown colored milk crate with enough Oky straps to bungee down Mount Everest. I turn up and learn the route from the lad... bright eyed about money changing hands for the commodity of the all knowing all seeing newspaper (The Sun, Daily Mirror and Sydney Morning Herald [which was never read by the inbreds in Minto]). Learning the route was quite easy after a week, learning the customers a little harder.

So I start off after a week or two training. First stop the council depot of Minto, where men were men and well basically sat around all day. Little to my knowledge I see all these lads and not many buy newspaper, alas they have already bought it in the morning and it's already been read, so I sell a few anyhow. With the sun on my back towards an extension of the route near my house and then into the undergrowth of Minto housing projects. Car's littered the alley ways like old aluminium cans, boys in their hooded jersey's kicked balls and used the F word a little less then the C word, dogs would knawed on anything remotely chewable and mother's with prams would wear tight fitting purple/pink lyra track's which would inevitably never want you to think about marrying nor having sex with women in Minto (ie Camel Toe).

This route was extremely dangerous to a young impressionable lad, such as oneself, trying to make a quick buck. Other lad's wanted the money in your leather pouch, you would hang from your hip like a Western Cowboy with a chip on his shoulder, and the only way you could get away from them was yelling as much F and C words as them and the bigger lad's just wanted your bike and well the only way on getting away from them, was saying you know their mother and call the bluff. There were some strange characters amongst this lot and one of my customers, an old man had cancer of the throat with his little electro-gizmo would freak me out every time he spoke to me, but was cool because his tip was a frozen mars bar which you couldn't eat. One time I thought about collecting aluminium can's on the way, however I found out that the Down Syndrome kid from up the way was doing the same thing and he chased me with a broom handle for a good mile after I picked up a can from outside his house.

Jack finally left after 6 months so I took on the whole two routes then. Yeh Daily Mirror bought out the Sun and really fucked up my output of money so I had to work harder selling the Daily Mirror-Sun or something like that, prices were inflated on magazines and middle class newspaper was now a monopoly people did want to buy, but anyhow, Luke the Newspaper Baron of Minto stuggle on taking over Jack's route.....

So the last part of the route, downhill outside the Government housing into people that had houses, I would see by this time Soccer training, Netball training, people coming home from work, the late busy hour of the main road through Minto and people feasting themselves fat on the 4... yes 4!! fast food joints stacked alongside each other outside 'Minno Mall' (From left to right you had KFC (another job where I earnt my bucks and another story to be told still cannot eat the Potato gravy, Pizza Hut, Mcdonalds - long defined as the mecca for meeting people in Minto and I've must a spent 1000's on thickshakes and junior burgers there, and last but not least Red Rooster proud standing take away of the Tuesday meal deals of Chicken and Chips!).

The last part of the route was where you meet some sane people and some rather insane ones too. There was a blind guy I delivered a paper too... yes blind, don't ask me why I was delivering him a paper, there was a lady who once thought my penis was hanging out of my shorts one day while I was seated on the bike (alas flesh colored bike seats were banned that year and I lost a customer from embarrassment as I stood up to reveal her mistake, but I did thank her for the compliment, although it would of been an ugly looking dick), there was one customer I never met and left money under a pot plant, however his/her fucking greyhound's use to get out and chase me all around wanting a piece of my mars bar, there were two chain smoking dwarves with a pre-rolled behind his ear and looking sour he used to buy the paper and say in some grim English accent about the forkin' weather, and an inbred lady with her inbred kids who use to piss me off with their water pistols - she use to buy the magazines (oh yes the magazines, the old bitty's use to come out for the Women's Weekly each month was a right amusement at 5-6pm seeing them in their pink slippers and matching dressing gown...

[was totally sidetracked there, just received an email from someone who thinks they know me and I don't know who the hell she is... Luke's been drunk again around women]...

so these old bitty's use to give me 5-10 cent tips.. God bless em... stingy pensioners!

Last stop.. THE MINTO PUB! Man that's an ugly place, still probably is, with it's police cars turning up now and then, old women punching the fuck out of old men and talking about their iligitament children. Anyways the pub owner use to give me a free orange juice.. this sir was the life sitting in the pub while I was 12-13 drinking OJ (thinking it was beer) with some of the lowest forms on earth... Ding Ding Ding the rattle of the pokie machines and the low hum of the greyhound racing in the back ground, the smell of cigarettes, beer in the carpets, chairs, walls and roof was amongst it.. I felt like .. I wanted to get out of there as soon as most times.
So back to the old mans newspaper corner shop, where I tallied the day's earning in the back shed where there was a roller door I banged on when I got back. It was calculated at some percentage where I would earn little next to nothing, however the tips bought me home and who wouldn't pay me until weeks end (which was about 20-25 dollars).

So I did this for god knows how long, until the Milk run came along.... another story another day. However it taught me the importance of a little hard work and method along with a smile gets you through most day, home to friends and away from the insanity of other homes.

Post is dedicated to 'Lady' 1999-2005 RIP

My dear and true friend and my only love who knew all my secrets, I'll miss your woo-woo-woo's babe!

- Birthday was great, check out the photo gallery for photos, Denmark was extremely hot and very relaxing and now back at work
- Love box festival this Saturday
- Lindsey birthday this Friday out for drinks in Clapham
- Sam has started working for Ealing Council so be plenty of after work drinks for me and him
- Wilko is remaining in Australia until September for a breif stint in England