Bedlam by Bobby Spears Jr

Author:Bobby Spears, Jr. [Spears Jr., Bobby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kingston Imperial

12

MONEY MONEY MONEY…MONEY

I hate when wealthy people give their money to the destitute. The destitute can’t really appreciate that money. If Angelina Jolie gives $1.3 million to the country of Cambodia over five years, what does that do? Well, it looks great in the headlines. We all applaud her. We have a dinner in her honor. I’m not saying her heart isn’t in the right place or that she’s doing it for the publicity; just maybe those funds would be better utilized by a married father of two making $80,000 per year. That guy sits up every night in his bed wondering how to start his own business, will they raise his adjustable-rate mortgage, and how the hell is he going to pay for private school? If he got some money from her, it would not only change his life; he would be able to change others’ lives. It’s almost like they don’t want him to get ahead. Maybe because they don’t want you to get ahead.

Those living in abject poverty should get in line behind him. It’s like that old Reagan-era trickle-down theory. When I win the lottery, I’ll say, “Fuck the poor” and start a nonprofit organization aimed at the upwardly mobile. All the suburbs will be a buzz with this new Svengali of the middle class. I’ll be like Tony Robbins, only I’ll include giving away cash so you can actually do all the things I’m talking about at my conventions. Not just buy my fucking tapes and get pumped up before you clock in at your day job. Then I’ll require that everybody give me a minority share of their company in return for the loot I gave them. The middle class will be able to afford private school and McMansions. The poor will be employed by the middle class and be able to afford food and stuff. And Angelina Jolie will kiss my ass. Kiss my black ass, Angelina!

That’s all bullshit.

My mother and father were both born into abject poverty. They pulled themselves up from nothing and created the city’s largest private-owned residential care network. They worked their asses off and passed none of their work ethic on to me. I’m spoiled. I’m a brat. It’s almost unavoidable for people in my position. It’s a precarious state to be in, and it’s not to be envied. With success and money come neglect, miscommunication, heartache, and pain. Although I don’t get along with them, I do respect them, and it’s hard to respect some of the client families I encounter.

What right do I have to be disgusted by them? What right do I have to sit in judgment of these poor souls? I built nothing. Earned nothing. The only thing I did right was being born into the right family. I swam faster than the other sperm. I won the gene-pool lottery, and I have the nerve to look over my desk at this woman and look down on this woman and judge this woman.

Rita is so fucking fat.

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