My stomach upset, I decided I wanted some seltzer water. I was on my lunch break. I was working at the welfare office and there wasn’t a CVS nearby! Imagine that not a CVS nor a Walgreens?! I went to a Target. Inside were families buying cheap mass produced plastic necessities. None of which I really thought about until I placed my four items on the conveyor belt. I was looking at my four items when I had that moment of clarity. I had purchased; a glass bottle of mineral water, an overpriced hair product, a piece of dark chocolate, and Augusten Burroughs’ Running with Scissors. It was then I had a relization, I am a self-indulgent yuppie. I may not have health insurance, I may not be making tons of money, but I am a self-indulgent hipster.
I though of El Oso’s blog entry Taste and Class I am not working class, I am not struggling although I may not have health insurance of even a savings account. I am also not truly committing myself to making this world a better place. What am I doing? I am the person described in his blog entry:
…class divisions in the United States have more to do with lifestyle and social stratification than with income. In other words, all of my anti-capitalist college friends who work in cafes and read Engels are not working class just because they make $14K a year and have no benefits. Class divisions in the United States have more to do with social networks…
What am I doing? What am I going to do about changing this situation? Which is not to say I don’t somewhat enjoy it. Last night, on my friend/neighbor’s porch we had a lovely wine and Amuse bouche get together. Olgita was there and loved it as she had portion after portion of pasta drenched in fresh organic pesto. She sipped out of her wine glass filled with water and slices of lemon and mint. She felt so grown-up and on the ride home kept talking about the pasta as she fought to stay awake. I wondered whether it was the right thing to have her there. What are the long term implications of her being with us? What does it all mean to her when she goes back home to her family, all fourteen of them in a 3 bedroom ghetto apartment? We joke about our trashy neighborhood, our lack of health insurance and income but really we are spoiled brats. I wonder though what it would be like if we had children?