The Economy

This is an anecdote. Suck on it.

THE STARS:

The other day I was on the packed morning train to work, listening to my headphones and minding my own groggy, sad business. Packed in next to me in the standing section of the train, were two men, one carrying a large video camera on a tripod and the other a bunch of audio equipment. Their jackets clearly said something to the effect of ‘Fashion Hair TV’. Keep in mind that only the day before i’d gotten my hair cut, so it looked neat even if I’d done nothing special with it.

So, at Redfern most people got out, and then these two skeletal junkies loped on board, all crazy eyes and furtive mutters. The first thing they saw were the hair fashion guys, which they were clearly taken with. One even reached out and traced the embossed words, much to the cameraman’s dismay. Then they saw me.

With an intuitive leap that I can only put down to the sheer amount of fairy dust screaming through their bulbous veins, one of them starts jabbing me in the stomach with a rolled up newspaper, saying “How dare you be a hair model in this economy? Huh? Huh?”

LACK OF STARS:

I mean sure, everyone goes out in the morning looking for those rare compliments about their newly cut hair from addictive drug users – but that doesn’t stop it hurting when you are accused of… well whatever it was I was accused of.

And as it was pointed out to me, while my supposed career of hair modelling might be a little vainglorious and useless to greater society, at least I’m not a parasitic drain and fountain of crime. I somehow don’t think the black market drug trade is what Obama should be focusing on to reinvigorate the USA’s wilting economic rod.

THE SCORE:

1/5 stars. 1 because I got a compliment.

THE COMMENT:

I had to use the old uploader because things were going crazy on this, and the other picture I had just wouldn’t load. It was shitty anyway. It was an unrecognisable Uncle Sam with what looked like a pile of snow, but was meant to be cocaine.

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4 thoughts on “The Economy

  1. Weird stuff happens to you. The weirdest thing that ever happened to me was… probably nothing, actually. Oh wait, no. At a concert when I was buying a shirt, some lady asked me what my boobs were named. That was weird.

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