On a whim, yesterday, I checked out the price on a pot roast (something I hadn’t seen since Jesus walked on water). Once I finished hyperventilating, I hustled off to the dry goods aisle. There, I was met by the nemesis of all senior citizens: legumes.
If you’ve read my blog before, you know where I’m going with this. You would be wrong (mostly). Yes, I know about Beano, but if I can’t afford various edible parts of the cow, I can’t afford to buy Beano. I’m used to dirty looks in the checkout aisle at the grocery store, indignant glares at the bus stop, and (my favorite) carefully avoided eye contact in elevators. Materially, this is nothing new. ‘Nuff said.
So what’s my beef? Yesterday on my morning walk, I started counting eviction notices on doors. In one circle around the block, I counted six. I’m fussing about my colon while hard-working people are losing their homes. The obvious question is, how do people afford smart phones when they can’t pay the mortgage (oh, and that whole political debate about how to avoid long lines for free government cheese)?
My wireless provider (which rhymes with horizon) is itching to give me a free smart phone. In their benevolence, they are allowing me to pay $30 to renew my contract. I see no need to load up on apps that will allow me to send porn to my grandmother. I also see no need to pay $140 per month (special promotional offer for preferred customers). In this economy, I’d rather wear Spanx to an all-you-can-eat buffet than jump on something like that.
Why do people do it? Obviously, they want something to occupy their time while waiting two hours for the doctor to finish his round of golf.
Apparently, there are people who can afford to put away vast sums of money for retirement. They frequent the natural food grocery stores, where it’s cheaper to buy a crab boat and catch your own than to purchase snow crab legs. I wonder if they get gassy in crowded elevators. But I digress.
The evil providers are pressuring the people who can least afford it into loading up their phones. They lock these people into contracts, which require snow crab legs and a pot roast to break. I’ll stick to beans. Maybe I’ll find a goose that lays golden eggs.