When I was 16 I had no idea what my life would eventually look like. I didn’t have time to ponder it and, quite honestly, didn’t care. I was as concerned about the future as the 1% is about the poor.
My mother, my stepfather, and I were living in a decrepit, roach-infested two-bedroom mobile home in a ramshackle trailer park in Sugar Hill, Georgia. I hated my school and hated my life. I had just been torn (again) from friends, and my brothers, and was living with a stepfather I couldn’t stand, in a domicile that should have been condemned.
My mother worked. My stepfather didn’t. He paid the rent by shoplifting high-ticket items from one Wal-Mart and returning them to another for the cash. If you ever wonder why you’re only ever able to get a gift card when returning something without a receipt, that would be why. I often went with him on these trips. I encouraged him with the hope that he would be apprehended and I would no longer have to deal with him. Sadly, that never came to pass.
We were horribly destitute. My mom’s check went to the car payment and utility bills. We seldom had food in the house. Were it not for my best friend’s parents feeding me, I probably would have starved. We were only able to do laundry once every two weeks so I often had to wear my clothes twice before washing them.
So, I as you can see, dearest reader, when I was 16, I certainly didn’t think about the future. I had no reason to think about the future. All I could think about was skipping school, if I would have food for dinner, or thinking of new ways to convince my father to let me move back to his house. Life was that incredibly depressing. It’s hard to ponder the future when your present sucks.
- Ate a small bag of barbecue chips and got barbecue all over my keyboard. Greasy keys!!
- Had a poll amongst my coworkers to see who would handle cigarette smoking duties since my boss called in sick.
- Argued with a coworker about who didn’t give a bigger fuck. I won. The fuck I don’t give is leviathan. So there.