Sources confirmed to The Federalist that Manny, the bouncer who works at Mel’s Burger Bar on weekends, is totally unprepared for the hellfire that my high-powered father is about to bestow upon him for not letting me, an underaged teen, into the bar this past Friday. Barring entrance to the clearly over-served is a cause worth fighting for and there is nothing that will spare Manny from my daddy’s wrath.
There I was, cutting the line at the bar as God intended. I sidled up to Manny, flashed my American Express Black card, and continued at a leisurely pace -- that is, until an arm blocked my path. "Not working here, man," the ignorant oaf proclaimed. "Flustered" does not even come close to explaining my utter confusion. My word, the last time I was told "no" was in response to the question, "Daddy, is there any Ivy League school your connections cannot get me into?" Rest assured, this slight will not go unchallenged.
I can’t wait until I see the look on Manny's face as I peer out from the tinted windows of my father’s Audi, as he is fired for his foolish disregard for the power that my name holds. Then, I say, then he will learn to never keep me from something that is clearly not entitled to me but I assume is.
The problem at hand is obviously upbringing, as Manny seems to be totally unaware of the established rules governing my society. If only he had more perspective he would see how utterly ridiculous his behavior has been. Hopefully he will have time to reflect on this as he wallows in unemployment; daddy will make sure of that.
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