You know who pisses me off? Those kids on the trains who sell candy bars. If you live here you know what I’m talking about.
The door clangs open, and even above the music in your headphones you hear, “Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, my name is [some stupid teen name] and I’m here selling candy bars. Not for no school or basketball team, but for me, to keep myself off the streets and to make some money.”
And then, much to the fat people on the trains dismay, “Unfortunately, all I have today is M&M’s and Starburst.” Like we all just figured he’d be fully stocked with everything from Snickers to Almond Joys.
Fuck these kids.
Go get a fucking job. Go take your ass to Wendy’s and fill out an application. And try the Frosty while you’re there – they’re fucking amazing.
Don’t tell me about keeping yourself off the streets. You obviously aren’t hard up for cash, seeing how you’re rocking some new kicks and a nice, leather jacket.
Oh, and thanks for “keeping it real” with me by telling me that it’s not for a school or a basketball team.
Because you were so honest with me, I’ll give you my dollar, add some fat to my stomach and keep you fuckers in business.
I mean, can I do this?
On my way home from work today I’m gonna step on the train, pull out a bag of bic pens and announce, “Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, my name is Chris, and I’m here selling bic pens. Not for no corporation or Office Max, but for me, to keep myself out of my office and to make some money. Unfortunately all I have today is blue ink.”
No. I can’t fucking do that.
So do me a favor candy bar selling teens, next time you feel the urge to make some cash, try applying for a job instead of setting a terrible example for kids even younger than you.
You can thank me later.