Payslip
· 7 min read
Old Ma felt quite content. A man in his fifties, finding a gig at a respectable place like 'Sam's Club', handing out small pieces of freshly grilled steak or tiny cups of new-squeezed orange juice to the 'members' coming and going, wearing just the right amount of warmth on his face—this job, compared to pedaling a tricycle at the alley entrance or hauling sandbags at a construction site, was worlds apart. He mulled it over himself: 'food sampler', what a novel title!