Hire The Smart Fat Girl

So here I am as a seventeen year old struggling to find a job. My parents are beginning to irk me saying things like, "You need spending money in Boston. If you don't have any, don't call me up asking for money!"

Maybe if Taco Bell and McDonald's stopped hiring every fucking idiot in the world then maybe I'd have a job. Literally I think the "Hiring Manager" looks at every application and finds the dumbest person they could and calls them. And why? Because those morons are so easy to train, they become so mechanical and they just don't give a shit.

And the smart girl, the Scrabble professional, the girl with her head screwed on straight doesn't get a job. I can't wait till the stupid people come to find when looking for job in the corporate world isn't as easy as it was to find a job at Taco Bell as a seventeen year old. And look at me here making the ultimate sacrifice applying to Taco Bell and McDonald's! So I have the greatest opportunity to smell like a Taco Bell or a scrumptious, juicy double cheese burger.

And just because I put my name down on that application I think I deserve the job! But whatever, all of these fast food joints could continue to hire the stupid people and instead in the words of Miranda Priestly, "Hire the smart fat girl."

Even if I turn out to be a "great disappointment." And if I was a disappointment, it's probably because some fat ass asked for two double cheese burgers instead of one. Whatever, I need a fucking job and if not that I need to start being paid to play Scrabble. I'm just complaining, but look at the bright side I'm finally deciding to get my license.

A year ago I started to learn, (Who am I kidding even over a year ago) and I got scared as hell. First off in the passenger seat was my crazed, lunatic Italian mother who yelled at me for driving too slow, not turning into traffic quick enough and because I was "Hogging the Right."

Oh, and "Felt like she was going into the trees." I wasn't even that bad, I was careful and took on the road like a normal teenage girl. But she needs to get me glasses first, I'm squinting like Taylor Swift to see road signs and the chalk board in school. And then my father yelled at me for wanting to work at Subway.

"I don't want you working at Subway," my father said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because some asshole might put a gun in your face," he said as he made the 'gun' gesture with this thumb and pointer finger. "And then ask for all the money!"

"Then I'll just give him the money!" I protested.

He narrowed his eyes, "He just might kill you! They don't care, they might just shoot you and run!"

Okay fine, they might. And then my mother added, "She can work weekends! Tell them she can only work on Saturday and Sunday afternoons."

Wow, slow down nelly. Since when do parents barge into my work place and tell them my schedule with out confronting me first? Jesus Christ, I'm not a five year old. I might be her "Little Baby" but...I can handle my own business/work schedule.

But, my father made an excellent (FA LAY MIN YON) so that was alright. But anyhow, being a Scrabble Dunce I live a very boring, pitiful and insipid life style. This is as good as it gets, FA LAY MIN YON, driving in the front seat with an Italian mother and bad reams. Fuck. My. Life.