I was sixteen and had time to pay off. I get this job in a piss factory inspecting pipe forty hours, three sixty dollars a week but it was a paycheck. So hot in there you could faint from the heat, but these fuckalls I worked with where just too lame to understand, too goddamned grateful to get that job and know they were getting screwed up the ass. All these dumbshits, they had no teeth or gum or cranium, and the way they sucked hot sausage! But me, well, I wasn't sayin' too much neither, I was moral school dude, hard-working shit. I figured I was speedo motorcycle I had to earn my dough. But no, you gotta relate. Floor boss slides up to me and he says "Hey you, you're just movin' too fast you're screwin' up the quota, you're doin' your piece work too fast. Now you get off your mustang cuz you ain't goin' nowhere!" I got me nerve up, I take a swig of bourbon and walk up to hot shit Dot Hook and I say "Oi, oi you, it don't matter whether I do labor fast or slow, there's always more labor after, he's this born again shitstian, see, he fingers the cross says there is one reason. You do it my way or I push your face in if you don't get off your get off your mustang. I busted his jaw with my bare fists and took off to never return. Heard he died of a heart attack three years later from his daughter who came over to visit me in Jersey to bang for 17 days and 18 nights. I heard she eventually got married, me, I still roll but at me own speed and ain't no one stopping me. Certainly no sausage smuggling shit factory supervisor.