Have you ever been entitled? I don’t know how that feels

I don’t know about you, but I won’t even get up in the morning unless I have my Venetian latte with frothing camel milk in my hand before I wake up.

But that’s not entitlement. That’s just getting by.

I mean, how else are you supposed to face the realities of the morning — which grey cardigan am I wearing today — unless you’re properly stimulated? I mean, really, until I’ve had that first drag on my truffle oil infused cigarillo, I’m not fit to be called a person anyway. So why am I even talking about anything that takes place prior to brunch? Eaten at 2:30 in the afternoon down the street at the only place you’re allowed to go in town without being ridiculed. You could go to that other place, the one with the same name and different vintage trading cards on the walls, but that’s the fastest way to discover how it feels to be Canadian. And nobody wants to be Canadian. They’re too nice. They seem too happy. Clearly they’re hiding something. Never trust them.

Which places do I mean? If you have to ask, then I cannot speak to you any longer.

But that’s not entitlement. That’s just getting by. It’s hard out here in the jungle. You have to choose between ham and turkey almost every day. The air conditioner in the office is set three and a half degrees warmer than the air conditioner at Starbucks. All the other cars on the road are clearly being driven by zombies. It’s a difficult life.

I suppose what I’m really talking about is coping with that drudgery of daily existence. And a main part of the adult life is employment. Having a job, or whatever euphemism you like. Negotiating with cheese mongers. Dancing with turkeys. Eating the existential bisque. However you want to put it. You know what I mean.

And I guess I want what everybody wants from a job.

Nothing huge.

I just want to be greeted as First Under God wherever I go. Wait while my unstated wishes for impossible projects become realities — an Eiffel tower made of Vienna sausages! The peak of both architecture and culture. And flexible working hours.

So no big deal.

That seems like it’s a pretty common desire among the self-absorbed sub-species of ape that stumbled to the top of the food chain. Doesn’t it? No big deal.

What’s all this entitlement business? What is that? What is this accusation of entitlement? Accusing perfectly reasonable people with perfectly reasonable wishes of behaving as if they deserve things simply because they are alive. There’s nothing unreasonable at all about expecting to get what you want when all your life older people have told you, “you can do anything. You can be anything. Be all you can be.”

So we do try to be anything. That’s how we respond. By waiting around for the pile of cash to fall on our heads, since that’s what we were told we would get if we simply asked for what we want. No need to work for a living. Perfectly sane reaction.

It’s perfectly sane to look at things that seem not to be working, and to ask for something different.


Pardon me while I balance my monthly budget. I have a feeling taxes are about to go up.