The End of Responsibility

So here I am, on my last real vacation before my next major life change, in a coffee shop.  I am the very model of a modern hipster douche-bag.  I am unshaven, hair styled, wearing fencing shoes with no socks, and furiously typing away on a post for a blog that few people read. The baristas are literally melting with adoration.  My post is important to me, though.  I've been exploring my old haunts, and despite the memories rushing back I can feel only faint nausea.
I was quietly drinking a double g&t (it's really hot and muggy in Kingston right now. I'm worried about malaria), and was subjected to the inane chatter of the waitresses.  For those who know me well, I usually use this as a form of relaxation.  It is mildly comforting to listen to the intense discussion over meaningless trivialities, as my life tends to be a drunken reel from one crisis to the next.  This time, however, I could only down my drink and leave before my urge to destroy these girls became irresistible.

The dialogue went something like this ("like" being the operative word).

The dim interior of a waterfront pub.  Three waitresses, one of whom is off-duty, chatter mindlessly around the cash.  At the bar: middle-aged businessman, mildly drunk despite the early hour.  Dark, silent, and slightly grim young man nursing a gin and tonic.  Signals private, in combats, drinking water and trading a few words occasionally with one of the girls.


Girl 1: Like, oh my god, you worked 4 shifts last week! Are you crazy?  That's like 24 hours of work this week. How do you find time?

Girl 2: No, it's fine. I blew off some shifts at my other job. I still worked full time though. It was awful.  With Tina's party, I like didn't sleep at all for 2 days!

Girl 3: Yeah, but your parents are like, super loaded! Why do you even work?

Girl 2:  Don't be a retard.  Sure, they pay for school, but they only give me like 995$ a month for rent and food. You can't live on a few hundred bucks, girlfriend!

Grim young man starts, finishes his drink, pays in silence, and leaves.


That's right folks, this poor young body slave has to work...like FULL TIME... because her parents, being heartless tyrants, only pay all her expenses.  How dare they not consider her social life? Isn't it a human right to go out, get slammed, and have indiscriminate sex?  Where is the Liberal Party's culture critic on this? How dare Mr. Harper deny socialites government support!

Seriously.  And these girls take pride in being "independent".  It makes me want to light myself on fire in protest.  An entire generation of proto-Keynesians and pseudo-Marxists are being raised because they cannot make the connection between effort and remuneration.  A lot of university students have no concept of property rights (the fruit of your labour is an extension of your body) because they have no inherent attachment to their own efforts.  Work hard, don't work hard, it's irrelevant, because Daddy will cover everything!  Supply is irrelevant, it will materialize when you need it. Demand is all that matters!

And people wonder why I can't stand people my own age.