Psych, I'm not actually rich. But I made about thirty quid on tips and shit last night, which is on top of whatever I get as a wage whenever the next paycheck comes in. Having become practiced in the art of scraping by with absolutely no money because I was too goddamn lazy to get a job, having some disposable income, no matter how small, is pretty amazing.
On the other hand, I'll probably spend most of the money on petrol.
Oh, and I got overtime as well, 'cause one of the other drivers managed to drive his scooter into a wall (not sure how, although the fact he gets through a tenbag of weed each and every shift might have something to do with it). Staying on 'til close is not only awesome but fucking awesome, because you get your pick of all the leftover pizzas and food that didn't get delivered for whatever reason. Hence, I took home one potato wedges, one cookie dough, and one vegetarian pizza with barbacue (how the fuck do you spell that word? barbecue? barbeque?) sauce. It was a feast that would have shamed the ancient romans.
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