My job is like kissing in the dark

Believe it or not, our brains contain neurons that are designed to help us locate the position of your lover's lips even in the dark. Which explains why in cinemas, even though you know exactly what's going on in the couple seats right next to your's, there isn't a single cry of "Holy crap Andrew, my EYE!" Pretty wicked stuff.


So if that's true, it also mean that I screwed up my post title.


Because frankly, I can't hand out flyers. Or at least not as effortlessly as they make it sound. Your hand goes too much to the right: paper gets squashed in the mail box. Too much to the left: paper gets squashed in the mail box. Up, down: paper gets squashed in the mailbox. Then there's the issue of other lazier flyer boys(or in my case, girls). For most people, getting your post box spammed and stuffed with useless junk mail is an inconvenience. But for the rest of us lowly teenage flyer people, it's a major hindrance. The only thing listed in my job description is putting flyers into mailboxes. Done deal. What it didn't entail was that I'd have to yank out inch thick catalogs that got stuck in the mail slot and slip them back in before inserting our own flyers. All the while, trying not to shred my skin into a hundred blood soaked slices by the metal edges or get ripped up alive by ferocious, man eating chihuahuas.

The dogs are actually one of the most annoying parts of my summer job because I'm a major dog person. I love dogs, any kind. Heck, my last dog was a gargantuan black furred Doberman-rottweiler which I aptly christened Fluffy and greeted me daily by knocking me to the ground with one of its patented sumo-wrestler moves.


But, like the offspring of mankind, even the things you love get a tad harder to love when they're throwing themselves at metal cages, screaming their heads off and trying to devour every single inch of flesh left on your puny adolescent frame.


But I'm not here to complain, oh, no. There are a bunch  of awesome things about my job I just haven't gotten to yet. For example, one of the best things about working a blue collar job is that you get to see how people are really like behind the "How do you do"s and "Lets discuss this in my office"s . 


So far I've categorized the general population into four categories according to four distinct characteristics: The smiley people, the frowny people, the loaded people and the normal people. The smiley and loaded people are my favorites, they're the kind of neighbors everyone wants. Rich but humble, affluent but friendly. The type of people who invite you in just to have a cup of ice tea, but who are also very rare to find. Then there's the smiley and normal people. People who like me, like to live a normal life with normal cars and normal friends and just want to make everyone happier by smiling. 


It goes without saying what type of people the loaded but frowny ones are, so I won't go there. It just makes me depressed. And as for the frowny and normal people, either I just met them on a bad day, or on a bad life. Life isn't good to everyone, some have to work harder to make as much money as other. 


But what I've learnt from the whole shiskabob is that you should NEVER have to work hard to have love. Love makes people happy, love makes yourself happy, and being happy makes you smiley. So it doesn't matter how much money you make or how hard it took to get where you are, just feeling love, giving love, being love, already puts you up there at the top. Because you've already got what other people are working their butts off to have.


Needless to say, I've quit my job and am now giving English lessons to a much older and prettier girl from China. We'll see how that goes but till then,


Ciao