Boys of Sharp Shire

“I mean, anyone can cut grass, but car washing? Kid takes the time wipe down the windows with newspapers, dries off the car so there’s no streaks? Shit I was making some money, hear?” Glen said and put the completed bong down on the coffee table. “I mean, I’m eighteen years old and I’m earning almost what my dad does busting his ass at the mattress factory.”

“Anyway, I go over there and ask him I can wash his car and he smiles and says sure and backs the car out of his garage. Tells me come on in when I’m finished. I hustle; don’t want any of my buddies see me washing Old Man Harrison’s car, you know? Get finished and knocked on the garage door,” Glen said. “Yells for me to come on in so I do and he’s sitting at his kitchen table. Says, it’s twenty wash the car, right? And I tell him, no, it’s only ten and he slaps a twenty on the table and tells me it’s mine. Then he asks me if I’d like to earn fifty more and I say sure.”

Glen packed the bowl with some more weed and lighted it.

“Then he says how about a hundred and I’m like okay!” Glen said and handed the bong to Terrence.