Party Girl (Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

v.

I’ve always been one to have a different opinion on success and business than most folks. I believe that luck, and just a little bit of effort, can get you anywhere. I don’t see the point in spending hours upon hours looking at the same computer screen and the same four walls just to get a little cash. I mean you can put in a 100% effort into a restaurant that doesn't actually succeed or you could 100% effort into one that does. To me, it’s purely luck whether or not a business gets you money or not.  

Take my parents for example. They’re workaholics, I mean everything they do is work related. They go out to business dinners and parties, every friend is an investment, and I can’t tell you the last time I actually saw either of them crack a smile.

My brother can see how unhappy they really are, yet he’s taking the exact same footsteps, except he doesn’t even have a wife. I mean really, the only people he even talks to are his assistants to tell them to get him a coffee or some important guy in a suit. 

Which is why I, Dara Fitzgerald, don’t work (and the fact that I don’t like moving a muscle unless it benefits only me). 

So can someone please explain to me why I’m at ice cream shop forced to serve the bratty kids that want their freaking ice cream. 

Not to mention, I looked utterly ridiculous. The uniform required a gold visor that was so ugly it looked like something Grandpa Fitz would wear (god rest his soul) on one of the days he went golfing. Not that he actually golfed or anything, but when Christofer and me were younger we would critique every gross looking outfit Grandpa Fitz would pull out of his closet (this was before Christofer became absolutely nuts and is now just like my parents). 

“Can I have a chocolate milkshake?” the little girl who stood in front of the corner asked. When  she spoke, she had the cutest little lisp, and I’d even classify her as cute, only if she didn’t have a large yellow stain in her pants that I was pretty sure was urine.

“Would you like whip cream with that?” I asked in one of my fake voices that make me sound like I actually love work. 

“Sure” she said with a smile revealing that her two front teeth were missing. I turned away from the girl, groaned, and then began making her milkshake.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad” my co-worker Greg Newman said next to me. We weren’t exactly friends, and I’d never actually hang out with him outside of work, but he was a nice bloke. He’s had the same girlfriend since high school, and I’m waiting for the day that they get married.

“Oh, but it is. Adair is making blood marys right now, and he said that if I’m not home in time he’s not making me one” I said with a frown. 

“But at the end of the shift you can go buy your own with your own money.” 

“I hate working” I said while finishing the milkshake off by adding whip cream to the top. I gave it to the little girl, took her money, and then once she left I groaned again. 

“Quit groaning. This is the first time I’ve seen you all week, besides seeing you on the tele” Greg said while serving another customer who was older than the hills and I was pretty sure that, just like the little girl, he didn’t have teeth. 

“I wouldn’t know because our tele hasn’t worked in six months.” 

“You and the curly kid, huh?” he asked raising an eyebrow.

I checked around the shop to make sure no kids were around to hear. “Nah, he’s like one of my best mates now. Those stupid camera people got it all wrong.” 

“Is he as charming as they say he is?” 

“He’s weird. Like really weird” I said. “I mean, he like tells these awful jokes. The best part is how he laughs at them right after he finishes telling them, and you can’t help but laugh too. They’re just really bad.”