Charles Bukowski

Post Office. Chapter II: 13

At 3:30 a.m. my twelve hours were up. At that time they did not pay the subs time and one half for overtime. You just got straight time. And you hired in as a “temporary indefinite substitute clerk.”
 
I set the alarm so that I would be at the art store at 8 a.m.
 
“What happened, Hank? We thought maybe you had been in an auto accident. We kept waiting for you to come back.”
 
“I’m quitting.” “Quitting?”
 
“Yes, you can’t blame a man for wanting to better himself.”
 
I walked into the office and got my check. I was back in the post office again.
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