The System Works?

So I had kinda let THIS post from The Charming Hedonist slip out of my mind, but then something happened Friday that really put it right back into the forefront of my concern...

MY TAKE on why the system definitely does not work...

Friday was K.B.'s birthday party. A time of drunken shenanigans the likes of which are rarely seen, and the very reason why we ALWAYS make a birthday party, a house party. Beer Pong, Kings, Guitar Hero, and Boojum* were enjoyed by almost everyone. We keep it real, and play double regulation distance Beer Pong (16 feet), house rules Kings (much more punishing), and well Guitar Hero drunk is really hard.... Then there is the Boojum. As far as I am aware, every Boojum virgin tried a drink, and many suffered the consequences.

After that, I was not going to be driving. I play it safe, and the lovely VonYennerson drove us back to my buddy D.K.'s house, where I was going to crash on the couch, as I had to drop his truck off with him the next day (well, that same day, just later when it was light out) to get detailed. We were back to his place by about 4AM, and for a half hour I laid on the couch, just not able to sleep. I have a really comfy bed (seriously comfy) and the couch was not cutting it.

So I decided to walk home. 3 miles at about 4:30AM, on my bad knee, sounds like a great plan when drunk... So I left Dave a note to come get me at home in the morning, and set off.

Half way between my house and Dave's house is a 24 hour 7-Eleven, where I decided to stop in and get a drink to make the rest of the walk easier (never mind the fact that I had a hundred bucks in my pocket, which would have made great cab fare, you don't think about these things when intoxicated). So I walk to the fridge, grab a Rockstar, and head to the line (yes, there was a line in front of me at 5AM).

It gets to the lady standing in front of me, and the clerk asks her if it will be TWO transactions. She replies yes, and he turns and grabs a carton of cigarettes and five $20 lottery tickets. I guess she must be regular enough that he knows everything she buys...

She has a half dozen items in front of her, and he rings those up first. To pay she pulls out a Quest Card. Quest is our states version of Food Stamps... Food Stamps are my tax dollars at work. I was buying the half dozen items in front of her...

He then rings up the Lottery Tickets and Cigarettes. $160... She pulls out three fifties and a ten while putting her Quest Card back.

She is paying cash for smokes and lottery tickets, while my tax dollars are paying for her fucking food?!?!?!?! (Judging by the food on the counter, her children's food as well) And it's not as if this seems to be a new concept to her, the clerck knew her well enough to grab her lottery tickets and particular brand of smokes before she even asked.

I wanted to say something. I wanted to shout out at the top of my lungs that while I bust my ass at work to make my ends meet (well, the ends meet quite well, but I still work hard), somehow she does not. But is seems to be no big deal to her that she has my tax dollars to spend on food so that she can spend what little money she must earn on smokes and lottery tickets. I wanted to ask her what the fuck made her feel that she should be gambling with the money she does earn instead of using it to provide more for her children. But most of all I wanted to ask her what the fuck she was doing to make her situation better so that she didn't have to KEEP doing it. But I didn't. I was drunk, and I knew that somehow the well off guy that berated the poor underprivileged woman who was using her food stamps to feed her children would be the BAD GUY in that situation. And so I waited for her to leave, and asked the clerk how often she came in...

A couple times a week, always the same stuff. A bit of food, a carton of cigs, and five $20 scratch tickets. Cash for the smokes and tickets, food stamps for the food.

I followed that one up right away; "That bother you even a little bit?"

His response; "It does. This is my second job, and I work a lot at both... But my kids have food and a roof over their head. The last thing I need to do is say something, get fired, and put an end to that."

And I couldn't agree more with him on his stance on the issue.

But I have decided that the system does not work.

And it pisses me off.

And I'm going to be working on that one. Which means I am going to end up running for a public office. Which means that I may have to change my drinking behavior... Which means that I may not be running for public office...

Shit...


*There is no Wiki article on Boojum, and I would have written one specifically for this post, but that seems to be a bit self important of me, as the drink is one that we invented. It's a mixture of every alcohol that you have on hand, and usually an extra ingredient or two from the hosts fridge. Friday's Boojum contained: Pabst Blue Ribbon, Mikes Hard Lemonade, Mikes Hard Lime, Vodka, Bacardi 151, Jaegermeister, and a dash of Ketchup (fridge ingredient, and not that odd, the original had mustard in it). This is usually a birthday drink, and has resulted in numerous instances of "immediate stomach evacuation" when handed to an unprepared drinker. Usually ONE small drink of Boojum is required for every party goer...