A Guide To Becoming A Teenage Hipster

[Teaser]

TEASER: WHITE TEETH TEENS

“I AM GOING to ask you this simply, because I honestly don't think you'll understand it any other way. Why did you break into my house?”

 “I really wanted a pair of jeans.”

“For christ’s sake!” The prissy little rich guy- or should I say- big rich guy exclaimes, slamming his palm against the prison walls in frustration.

Come to think of it, the general idea around prison is that it’s a dirty place, where you have to bunk with creepy looking perverts who attempt to jump your bones because their sexual desires are in overdrive from loss of contact. This statement is totally wrong. There wasn’t a stinky latrine with flies swarming in the corner, no yellow sweat stained bed sheets either. Nothing. This place was practically like a hotel. Jail was way underrated I must say. Better than my house for sure. 

The only problem was the snobby little ‘prince’ over there. Well you see he was all antsy about the fact that he had to stay the night in an icky prison cell. It was slightly shocking as to why his parents would even let him stay an hour in a place like this, let alone the night. After he had finished his three minute phone call — I didn’t bother with mine since I and no one to call, and I definitely didn’t want to call my dad— he emerged back into the jail cell red faced and cussing about how his father was evil. Well evil was putting it lightly. This guy used a much stronger word. Well too bad Edward, too bad.

Basically the guy shouldn't have gotten in my way. I was so close. So close, to getting that painting and then getting my gorgeous jeans, but nope. I mean yes, I was stealing to get my jeans, but also so that I could help my dad out with rent. I figured that if I managed to steal the painting and then drive out of state, and all the way up country, I’d be able to sell it to a vintage store or any type of store I could find, for that matter. I’d ask around for the best possible price, sell it, get the money and that way I could pay rent to my dad and help him out a little. I would also get to buy my jeans and maybe save a little to take a writing class at the community college if I did manage to get a good price on the loot. But of course he had to ruin my genius plan. That little idiot over there had to come prancing out his window dressed in a black onesie— identical to what I was wearing— in the middle of the night while I was in the process of carrying a very heavy and very expensive painting to the rusty truck I had borrowed. Of course he had  spotted me struggling to carry this painting, and it wasn’t long before I was crushed with his bodyweight as he slammed me to the ground.

The neighbours had already called the cops when they heard me shouting for him to get his pasty ass off me, and the cops wasted no time getting there. Obviously because we had been in the most influential part of the neighbourhood. I bet if my dad called the cops, they would have said it was a squirrel and told us to go back to sleep. 

Bastards.

Cops are idiots. They're fools. Why? Because they actually thought he was trying to steal the painting, just because he was dressed to play the part. I convinced them that he was my accomplice and that we were in an argument about who was actually going to get the painting- when you live in the outskirts of the city, you learn to lie good- and they actually believed me.

Also, what little pussy wears all black and goes prancing on rendezvous in the middle of the night? And what kind of neighbours don’t come outside when drama like this happens? They just watched through a crack  in their lace curtains, which probably cost more than my house. Man I tell you, if we were up in the skirts, this place would have been swarming with people trying to catch a glimpse of some daily action. These guys were all a bunch of prudes. And I mean, this guy can’t convince someone to save his life, he actually dug his grave further when he  started droning on about how he was  the ‘victim’ and that his daddy ‘is going to sue the police department for obstructions against his rights-something, something’. 

Now, I didn’t particularly understand what the hell the dude was on about, but I did establish one thing. 

The guy's a prissy little pussy.