When living in a city as expensive as New York, you begin to realize a few things: 1.)Wages CERTAINLY do not equal cost of living 2.) You're constantly and, more so frantically, looking for alternative ways to make money (i.e. A food/prostitution cart. You get a 'handy' and a hot dog for one low price!). 3.)You think babysitting on the weekends is a good idea. Therefore, you create a profile on Care.com. Except you forgot one thing - you're a man in your mid-20's whose profile on a childcare site now reads, "I love children, and I'm so eager to meet and bond with yours!" Top it off with a picture of you bouncing your cousin on your knee during her 4th birthday to go that extra Care.com mile 4.) Realize you're now probably a registered sex offender.
None of these things ever really pan out and I end up just leaving the office completely exhausted yet still worried about how I will pay my rent and afford a new puppy. But while most people consider luxury items to be swanky things like a Mercedes, extravagant cruises or fake teeth made of gold, I've found that in my life the luxury items are much more "in your face" and more difficult to avoid, which leaves me constantly yearning for a list of my luxury items that I feel I deserve but cannot afford. What can I say? I just reek of pure class and high society. The following are 7 things I now consider luxury goods:
1.) Cheese. This is worth mentioning twice. Cheese is delicious and I enjoy consuming it quite often. However, the other day I was walking through the grocery store's refrigerated aisle and came across a delicatessen of fresh cheeses. As I grabbed to reach a pack of Munster, I realized that 8 slices would cost me $7.99. That, I find, is absurd. But it's New York, and apparently cheese is flown in from some magical land and tunneled through the underground passageways of the city by magical gnomes that deliver these packets of cheese fresh everyday. This, in turn, hikes up the price. Moral of the story: I can no longer afford cheese. Solution: Befriend a woman with supple breasts so I can churn my own. YUM.
2.) Doritos. I have always loved Doritos with an intense passion that one would love Oprah or a a crush that consistently ignores you. However,the stingy Chinese man at the Deli on 54th and 9th thinks it's OK to sell a bag of Doritos for 4.99 - and that's not even the family size! I try to scoff and passive-aggressively hint that his prices are outrageously high, but he just whistles and says, "ISA MANAAAAAHATTAN!" He also has a $10 minimum for credit cards, which means my Doritos actually end up costing me $10. Mr. Dim Sum tricks me into buying packets of gum and scratch-offs to meet the minimum. Gum + Scratch-off + Doritos = $10. Rude.
3. Jeans. Back in my youth, I used to spend at least 100 bucks on jeans. The other day I realized that every single pair of my jeans started getting those pesky holes in the crotch from when you wear them too often and your legs rub together (my legs have never NOT rubbed together, which I find unfair but whatever). Needless to say, I desperately needed a new pair. So I journeyed to The Gap, shopped alongside a family from Arkansas, and bought a fresh new pair for $23. How refreshingly middle class!
4. Alcohol. I'm not one to really compromise on alcohol, but when I'm paying $12 for a vodka soda poured from a plastic bottle it tends to annoy me. Especially if I'm at a bar in the Lower East Side with a name like "The Drunken Slut", "The Skinny Fat Man", "My Little Pony", or any other so-called "grunge bar" with an obnoxious name. Last weekend I went to a bar called "Fat Baby" where a man that looked exactly like Jesus poured me some vodka into a tiny glass and charged me $13. What the fuck? So my solution is to simply black out before I leave my apartment. If I can't achieve that in time, I pack a fashionable flask full of my favorite liquors. Suck a dick Fat Baby.
5. A Puppy. I'm always walking around the city seeing people with well-groomed dogs. Not only that, but most of these dogs are wearing coats and sweaters that are more expensive than anything I own. The worst are the gays. They can't have 1 dog, they just HAVE to have 2 dogs because they're just that much trendier and cooler than everyone else. Why have 1 Pomeranian when you can have 2 or 3? Fuck it, give me the entire litter so I can walk up and down 5th Ave with my family of perfectly groomed dogs that say, "Fuck off homeless lady. My 2 oz turd is worth more than your 2 shopping carts full of used hairbrushes and half-eaten hot dogs." Luckily my roommate Dan curls up on the couch and eats off the floor, so I can hold off on the puppy for now.
6. Cable. It costs me $144 a month, but sometimes I just need to Keep up with the Kardashians.
7. Organic Dry Cleaning. A few months ago I decided I would get my sheets dry cleaned because I just felt extra bashful that weekend and decided to splurge. Well, I mistakenly took them to an "Organic Dry Cleaners" and ended up paying $77 for a Korean man to throw them in the washer, spray some Febreeze on them, hump them twice, and fold the fitted sheet into a triangle. When I asked what exactly made this dry cleaning "organic", he just nodded yes and gave me a coupon to a Kim-Chi restaurant that I believe is owned by his nephew. Honestly, I should just pee into a glass and sell it as organic lemonade. But seeing as how it probably consists of 10% alcohol, I'll sell it as home-brewed organic Pale Ale.
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