"This job is getting tougher by the day. Less pay, more work, and so many conditions. Back in the day, only fools would take on a job like this."
The burly man carrying a large shotgun walked down Haywood Street, holding a few skewers of freshly bought grilled meat in one hand and a beer in the other, eating as he went. His mouth, covered in grease and seasonings, audibly smacked, and it smelled delicious.
But eating like this in the street was somewhat neglectful of oneself's image.
"Getting a job at all is not bad. That old woman Rogers is still complaining about how there are fewer job offers than last year, and Jack, can you eat a little quieter?"
V looked at Jack with eyes full of resentment. Coming from a corporate background, she couldn't comprehend how Jack could enjoy this street junk food so much.
"Come on, V, your brother here didn't grow these muscles by just drinking water. I've got to keep up my nutrition!"
