In those day,I would eat at least five sandwiches in the morning that would sustain me for a day. I hid three sandwiches in my jacket and shoved two into my mouth. Then pedalling as fast as I could, I would duck into the first corner just as the maitre d' came out of the restaurant. She always looked bewildered when she saw the missing boxes. I, on the other hand, was exhilarated.
I was, what people would call, a chaser. Being the youngest, everyone gave in to me. But it was never with the best intentions. Most of them could barely straighten their backs. Others wobbled on their bicycles. When I reached the pier, the place would be swarming with others like me but there were always boxes left. I lifted them with ease and L could feel the look of envy on their faces as they watched me pedal to the warehouse. The heavier boxes brought in the highest prices.
My boss told me that I was the luckiest chaser around. The younger chaps were back in school. However, I abhorred my pathetic situation. As I stared at the unrefined man with saliva dribbling from his mouth, I had an uncontrollable urge to put a dark ring around one of his beady eyes. I hated the long hours under the hot sun.
Nothing went my way after that incident. My boss caught me red-handed one day as I was stuffing the sandwiches in my mouth. He hated m brazen manner and on matter how hard I pleaded, my bicycle was taken from me forever.