Spoiled Rich Kids

So I stop into Starbucks today for a treatsie and I get my stuff. I'm waiting for my coffee and I look around. Mind you I'm in Lincoln Park (ahem: trixies, rich folk, yuppies, preppy students). I see some kids gathered around a small table. It's so obvious. The expensive Buffalo jeans. The Macs tucked away in their Mac bags. But then the irony of the sagging hipster skinny jeans. The studs in their noses. The bright orange and blue streaked hair. It's like Breakfast Club meets High School Musical 2. Disney wearing mascara. You get what I'm saying? And then I narrow in on this kid and he's got an, I'm sure, 10 dollar salad, and he's constantly saying "like no way", "like fuck that", "like omigod" and he's got the salad bowl up to his mouth and he starts drinking his salad. Ya, he is scarfing it down like he's never been taught anything about manners. And I'm slightly confused. So as I'm leaving I think back to high school, to some of the kids my sister knew in high school, and I know who those kids remind me of. They were those kids whose parents had a lot of money but their kids didn't want to identify themselves with that rich white culture. So they'd "rebel" and get a tattoo, some piercings, and protest animal fur wearers. But the problem was these kids were so spoiled they were doing it all in vain. So as I'm thinking about little Dillan shoving corn and greens into this mouth like a garbage dump truck, I realize that I'm thankful I guess. In light of Thanksgiving coming up, I'm truly Thankful that my mother and father made me clean up after myself and didn't always allow me the Guess jeans I wanted every year. Because now I know how to eat a god damn salad.