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salesmstei · Wysłany: Czw 21:26, 24 Mar 2011 Temat postu: my txt_ (57)

"But I have a softball game today," I said.
Mike's dad lowered his voice to a stern tone. "Take it or leave it,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]," he
"I'll take it," I replied, choosing to work and learn instead of playing softball.
30 Cents Later
By 9 a.m. on a beautiful Saturday morning, Mike and I were working for Mrs. Martin. She was a kind and patient woman. She always said that Mike and I reminded her of her two sons who were grown and gone. Although kind, she believed in hard work and she kept us working. She was a task master. We spent three hours taking canned goods off the shelves and, with a feather duster, brushing each can to get the dust off, and then re-stacking them neatly. It was excruciatingly boring work.
Mike's dad, whom I call my rich dad,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], owned nine of these little superettes with large parking lots. They were the early version of the 7-11 convenience stores. Little neighborhood grocery stores where people bought items such as milk, bread, butter and cigarettes. The problem was,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], this was Hawaii before air conditioning, and the stores could not close its doors because of the heat.