I kinda would like the specifics of this. But that's just me.
There was a time when I first moved to Los Angeles at 19 and my career was, kinda, non-existent, trying to get a break when I had never been west of the Mississippi before and knew no one in California. I got going to a pawn shop. Things were bad. Eating the free crackers at Wendys w/ketchup for meals bad. I was regularly ridiculed for being poor at this one pawn shop in Echo Park that I sold stuff at. I never understood why they had to be so f-ing mean about a person being poor. Had no car. No money for bus. It was the only place I could walk to so off I went. "Minolta Spot meter?, we'll give you 50$." Really? They cost $1,200.00 and this is Hollywood. You'll have no trouble selling it for $ 500.00 Can you give me $100.00. "Well, how about 25$?" they would respond. What could I do.And why mock me?
Flash forward a couple of years, I'm rollen! Put on my worst clothes, shuffle in with my Rolex Submariner. "Hey? Where ya been?" Need some cash, what will you give me for this vintage sub? "$75.00." $75.00? They go for thousands. "Well how about 50$? I told him a bad word. I than called him the bad word. Guy thought he was gonna get a collectable Rolex for 50 bucks or whatever. The disappointment on his face was awesome.
Bla, bla, bla owner needs to pay staff, overhead. Fine! But why make fun of someone because they are poor? Years later Echo Park got all fancy and in the last days of this pawn shop before it got turned into a wood fried pizza/craft beer hipster hang out I wandered back in. The dude had recently died. Place was in shambles. Karma? And I kinda contemplated this guy's death while walking out. I'll just keep those thoughts to myself suffice it to say, good, I'm glad he's dead.