I’m high on a cloud of consumption choices...willing to scrub your floors for cars and store bought stuff I saw on the television.
It’s a grand a week cash, for forty hours of house keeping. Roma got wind of that, and so I wondered, why not? Stuff is good, and better than starving to death too, wouldn’t you agree?
What price security? The planet pays all the bills before you see them, the air, water, soil...all cash, carried, and commodified; mixed up with decomposed plants and ground up rocks...all sucked or ripped from the earth to make those dreams we learned on television true. American dreams.
I’m an American consumer, raised after the days when the goal was to make citizens. I don’t know the constitution better than the Macdonald’s menu. Who wants me to?
Since I was born here, I deserve the better life, the stuff that I see on television. I deserve to have my floors scrubbed too, I do.
I don’t have to do the math. I have to play the part of true believer. I have to walk on scrubbed floors and all the rest. You too can be me, living high on the hog in the hills. Really!
Can we survive on a grand a week? Sure! But we would have to scrub our own floors, and give up cable too. One broken hip away from bankruptcy we wobble, carefully.
I’m willing to scrub your floors for a better life. The life I dreamed of after seeing it on television. That one, at one. I’ll be there at one, and I’ll be done, by five, five dollars extra to scrub the shower, first time, OK?