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Welcome to the Working Week

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“Here you go, Doris,” said the baker, handing her a box of pastries. “Get these to the Hampton Hotel lickety-split! Oh, and, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Try not to run anybody over, alright?”

Doris took the box and dashed out to her car. “First day on the job and I’m already visiting the ritziest places! Yesirree, things are looking up for Doris—is that a pram?!”

The car crashed into the baby carriage and tossed them both onto the curb. “Aw, nuts,” said Doris, hanging from a streetlamp. “Guess I’m not getting that promotion after all!”