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- I get to shop at stores with improperly spelled titles like Sav-A-Lot, Thrif-Ti-Mart, and DisKount King. These stores offer a wide variety of out-dated, slightly damaged merchandise that Wal-Mart shoppers can only dream of.
- I get to drool at resturant commercials on TV because I know I will never be able to afford meals like that again unless a rich relative dies
- I get to wear my friend's hand-me-down clothes and shoes. This means that I rarely match and my feet ache constantly from wearing shoes that are three sizes too small.
- I get to freely engage in offical sports of National Poor People's Association: begging and borrowing.
- I get to go to bed every night with comforting thought that if I ever do meet Ms.Right I can't afford to date her.
I'll stop there because I see envy rising to dangerous levels in a few reader's eyes. These readers probably have steady jobs and nice homes or apartments. Their bills are probably caught up. They probably have an immense wardrobe with properly sized shoes. Their bank account probably never drops below $5,000. I apologize to these readers if my boasting about my impoverished condition has made them feel inferior and totally removed any self-esteem they may have had left. All I can say is that I never meant to be poor. I was just in right places at right times. Maybe one day all of you will find yourselves on Road to Rags as well. Until then you can check in with me if you want to know what it's like. I'll be guy on side of interstate off-ramp with 'Will Work For Food' sign. Pull your Mercedes right up and ask me anything. I promise I won't laugh.
Timothy Ward invites you to subscribe to his weekly humor column 'I Never Said I Was Normal' at http://www.timward.1afm.com