Going Into the World!

Since last night's date, Jennifer and I have become a couple that each other recognizes. I went to school the next day and Jennifer was so happy.

"Jennifer, hi."

"John, how did it go?"

"As you can see, haha." I have spread out my arms to show off my strength.

"Kick! Are you joining me for lunch?"

"I love it!" Are you having lunch with your girlfriend now? Hehe.

"By the way, can I eat with Jenny?" Jenny is Jennifer's best friend. Jenny has a slightly chubby look or brunette. It's not nearly as much as the Quincaine Jennifer, but it usually is.

"Yes, I don't care."

So, the three of us had lunch every day, and Jenny and I became close. And with Jennifer and I sticking together and hugging each other naturally, everyone noticed us.

I often went downtown and enjoyed dating while watching movies. The wild excitement that I felt when I was together was acting as an energizer.

I felt proud that I had made Jennifer my girlfriend in just one year. The school also had a slight superiority over the eyes of others who would take Jennifer with them.

I sometimes went to the park or the creepy place, of course. Curiosity once touched Jennifer's chest, and when my hands touched it, Jennifer's frozen face stiffened.

The other day, I was coming on a date, and I lifted my clothes slightly and touched my chest in a secluded park, and my whole body was stunning because of the soft feeling.

I could feel it in my hands, and I could feel it in my hands. Jennifer's face frowns, and then she snaps her hand.

Men want to be good at everything in front of their girlfriends. When I worked out, I worked hard, and when I studied, I ran hard.

Jennifer was always proud of me, and the way she looked at me was always a stimulant to me.

I liked Jennifer the most when she was with me, sweeping my heart away. It's not fair that Jennifer's okay with me, but I can't do that.

As a student, even though I kissed her, I had to look around, and even though I wanted to hug each other and touch my breasts once, I had to walk around and feel nervous.

'Money, money, money is the problem.'

"John Kim of the underworld has no place to roar like a poop puppy."

I had always been interested in the news, unlike my mature head and age, but I was trying to make my own money, but I didn't want to work so badly.

During my time in the United States of America, it was time for the Internet to start, and I received an expensive computer as a gift, whether I felt sorry for my son who was sent alone to faraway places.

A high-speed line of Windows 3.1 and 14400 bps was enough for me to explore a world like Gopher or USENET on my 500M hard drive. Of course, a new thing called the web came out and organized them a little bit to help me with directory services.

It sounded like something was going on all the time around Silicon Valley, and the news, the Internet, Ujergm, etc. seemed to convey some strong messages to me.

Then one day, I was enjoying chatting in a group of Internet users. Of course, this is not a chat between men and women. I wasn't particularly interested in the fact that Jennifer was already there, and I was browsing around or exchanging computer related information with my own feeling that something was coming my way.

"John, are you good with computers?" Clarkson suddenly asks me in a chat.

"Computer! Of course. I'm good at what I do." For almost a year and a half, my computer skills have improved enough to program c/c + + or install web servers.

"Do you want to play?"

"Why? What's going on?" I felt something, I asked again.

"Well, I know my brother's been in a website building company this year, and he's just looking for some friends to do something about it. The company is a startup venture, so instead of increasing full-time employment, they pick up jobs."

"Really? What about your people?"

"First of all, it's simple labor, but it's picking people who are good at computers. They pay me 12 bucks an hour. If you're good at it, maybe 15 or 20 bucks."

"Oh, really?"

Some of my friends were working at McDonald's for five dollars an hour. Of course, some of the other parts are worth a little bit more, but $12-20 is really great.

Of course, I'm still a rookie in high school, so I don't know if I'll really give you $12.

"Can I? Isn't that how you pick college students?"

"Yes, but all you need is your skills. If you're sure."

"Of course, you know. That I'm flinching. Don't you know what it's like to talk in a room?"

"That's why I asked. Otherwise, I wouldn't have told you.

I spent a few days a little excited about the idea of a pretty good part-time job. On the fourth day, Clarkson sent me a call asking me where I was coming from. Go meet a man named Lucas.

I took a bus Friday afternoon to Silicon Valley. It was a small company with a funny name, Yahoo, in a slightly remote location.

As a child, I used to go hiking with my parents, and my mom would yell, "Yay!" Then I used to call him "Yahoo!" instead of imitating him as a man, but when I saw his name, I smiled a little.

"How do you do?"

"How can I help you?" My brother is standing around at the entrance.

"I'm looking for Lucas."

"Lucas? Hold on."

After a while, a person walking out of the house with horn-rimmed glasses, tall and circular.

"Are you John?"

"Yes."

"I heard. I heard you're good with computers."

"Yes, I can do anything I want."

Lucas takes me to the desk in the corner. There was a young man in his 20s who seemed to be a college student working hard on something.

"Sit here."

"All you have to do is gather the information I give you and put it up here. Then that friend over there will take care of the rest. Can you do that?

"Yes, it looks simple."

"Really? Well, if you have any questions, I'll be in the other corner."

I was left with a cursor on a black-screen computer that was much newer than mine. This is not a Windows, but a unix system, and I've tried it on occasion, so I'm familiar with it.

I did a few hours of what I was supposed to do, and it's already 7: 00. Time flies. Suddenly, I looked around and found that not many of the remaining 10 employees left.

Do I have to keep doing this? '

Lucas taps the keyboard, turning on his headphones and shaking his head to the left and to the right. I looked around and I saw these guys.

"Lucas!" At 8: 00, no one talks. I go to Lucas and call him.

"Huh? You're still there?"

'Course, I didn't tell you. Should I start on the first day?' I rumbled into my heart.

"Yes, I'm done. Can I go home?

Already?

"Already?" What time is it?

"It's 8: 00. I haven't had dinner yet."

"What? Then let's talk. I thought I was gone. It's your first time today, so I just gave you two days in advance."

"Yes?!"

I worked four hours straight, doing my best not to rest.

Lucas glances at what I've done and is amazed at how well I've done. And I decided to work two hours a week, three hours a week, seven hours a weekend, Saturday/Sunday.

Lucas and I are coming out, and who's that Asian guy over there at the big desk? and ask Lucas.

"Oh, he's a friend of my brother's. He's a part-time student. I picked it to organize the search page."

"Really?"

I just came out and asked him who he was. Jerry. He and a friend of mine built this place together.

I did the math on the bus back home.

So two days a week, two days a week, two hours for $72. Weekends for $72. Weekends for $12168. Wow. A total of $240 to $960 for four weeks.

I can count a few times and get excited. Where does a high school student touch this much money? I can't believe how hard you've worked to hone your computer skills. Of course, not everyone works hard at computers for a year and a half. As you said, I was a bit of a head, a geek on this side, and a bit of luck.