It’s no secret that my number one goal is to get out of Chatswin -- curing cancer is a close second, followed by riding a unicorn. The problem is, even though I have my license, George won’t let me take the Prius for more than a few hours. He also tracks the GPS so I can’t make a run for it.
But this week, George underestimated me. After he refused to allow me more time behind the wheel, he suggested that I buy my own car. It’s like he mistook me for every other Chatswin teenager who’s incapable of holding down a part time job.
Now I know what you’re thinking, why would someone like me take a job for someone like Dallas? Why would the cool city girl work in a store dealing crystal? Shouldn’t I work in a used record store or a bookstore or an organic grocery? No. Because Dallas, not knowing the value of a dollar, enormously overpays me. Sure, I told her the current minimum wage is $35 an hour and argued my way up to $40, but she could have researched it.
And the best part, she gave me a signing bonus. After a quick visit to Craigslist I found a used scooter that I could afford without actually having worked a single second. I’ve hit a few set backs since then: the scooter didn’t have any gas and George, along with the state of New York, require me to get a motorcycle license. But, fear not, I downloaded the handbook and I’ll be popping wheelies in no time.