I have scrappily swum back out of the bowels of moderate poverty. Shit got slightly bad for a brief, terrifying First World moment. I even had to cut out, much to my to chagrin, Second Breakfasts and Elevenses. Apparently not the Lord of the Rings references though. First let me describe in detail some more of my life's circumstances. While hovering just above pennilessness, I got the job at the farmers market stand. Unfortunately, I have only been given work "training" the past three Sunday's and earned less than minimum wage each day. Alas, I was assured that more hours and opportunities would come, so I waited with patience, yet unease. At the moment I don't have to worry about rent, which is quite convenient. I do however, have to worry about scrounging the occasional meal. Though I have enjoyed the ample time to do nothing, only making fifty dollars, one day per week, over a span of three weeks, isn't exactly sustainable. The main and only thing that's kept me alive is a reserve of insurance money we received a few years ago after I totaled my car. My folks held onto this reserve and in times of desperation would trickle some down to me. They know that I needed to save it for a new car and are well aware that I tend to decimate money with stupid and consistent, reckless abandon. As a result, I could pretty much only afford to spend any of it on gas and groceries. If not for the glory and convenience of two dollar Charles Shaw Cabernet, "Two Buck Chuck", I almost would've had a hellish, accidental sobriety forced upon me. I needed something to hold me over while I waited for more work/money and chalked the cheap, delicious wine up to the classy equivalent of a PBR 40 oz.
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Then just the other day, something incredible happened, my parents in their non sarcastically, never-ending wisdom, came to the realization that giving me all of the insurance money at once was a good idea. About 3.7k. Elated at the new plan to let me be an adult and such, I immediately rushed to the bank to cash out three thousand in one dollar bills and am writing this post as I sit naked upon the summit of One Dollar Mountain, brazenly chugging Goldschläger, and smoking a joint rolled from a hundred dollar bill. While I revel in this newfound, near infinite wealth, I have not forgotten the hardships and humbling conditions, which I barely survived just days ago. I shudder thinking back on the single day I endured when I couldn't afford to eat out, a wretched hell I could not ever relive. Thus, I intend to use this money was as much sanity and semi-frugality as I can muster. First order of business? Cash in these freshly soiled one dollar bills for a plane ticket to Costa Rica to pick up some real, homegrown coffee and say hi to a few old friends. With whatever's left after my coffee run, I suppose I'll look into the whole car thing. Then, overwhelmed, I'll probably just buy a bike and some peyote and ride out to the desert, bat country. Out there, as I pedal around all alone, unbalanced and seeking guidance, I trust the induced Native American spirits of the desert will impart to me the true destiny of the remaining money. But in my gullible, spiritual despair, I'll have bought the cheapest peyote I could find, called "Red Mans Greed", and the Visions will probably just guide me to a roulette table at the closest Indian casino, those manipulative spirit bastards. Then after losing the entirety of my bank account at said roulette table, I will shamefully pedal back out of the desert toward L.A. in financial and psychological tatters.
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| Runyan Canyon, in the hills above LA. |
Well, that's at least one way this whole money scenario could play out... In reality, I'm just enjoying the staggering convenience of the situation and legitimately considering my now vast array of options. Needless to say, the Holy and Never-Ending Glorioussness of this unexpected acquisition of wealth, and inconveniently attached responsibility, shan't and won't ever get to my head.
