The day they sacked me I had a choice. Tell Marita and suffer or find work quick. So the next morning, and mornings after, I left home as usual. I’d go to the dole office, and after that the library. I did a few interviews but everyone wanted younger blokes.
Tex heard I was after work and asked me to do some driving. It was easy money—cash-in-hand. I picked up payments and delivered cheap chop-chop tobacco. Pubs, milk bars, clubs. A few private addresses. If I finished early I’d play a few hands while I waited for Tex. Life was sweet.
Then one day I left my phone at home and Marita called the old office looking for me. When she confronted me I didn’t know how much they’d told her. To be honest I was scared. Sure, she broke my balls sometimes but we’d patch it up, have a laugh and move on. I wasn’t looking for anyone else. Not really. Not even with that squealing secretary, she just wanted attention. Mine or McKinley’s—it didn’t matter. Harassment—what a joke.
small stories about love 