Let me introduce you to Cash Jenkins. He appears to own Thrive Exchange, a hipster cesspool located on Newbury Street in Boston, selling crusty old overpriced consignment clothing.
He looks exactly as unwashed and (un)ironically terrible as you imagine he would, and then some.
And as if “Cash Jenkins” wasn’t douchey enough, apparently his friends call him “foodstamps”.
Or you can just call him Summers Eve, because that really drives the point home.
Recently a young lady left a rather scathing review detailing her experience at Cash’s establishment.
And she, also, looks exactly as you would imagine, and then some.
That self-righteous indignation and oppression really make your skin glow! This is clearly the face of disenfranchisement, and Lush bath and beauty products. Listen, lady, with all due respect – if you can afford to browse around Newbury Street on a Friday afternoon, you’re scoring pretty low on the adversity scale. Sit the fuck down.
The reaction to this post is also exactly as you would imagine it would be. Some had totally reasonable, effective and not-insane-at-all suggestions like, get the Government involved in a one-sided account of the conduct inside a private business!
Hey Charlie, come get your boy Foodstamps!
Others simply condemned the egregious actions of this definitely racist greaseball they have never once met.
And still others reacted angrily to any further questioning of the incident, because they are mind readers who have the uncanny ability to discern another human being’s most innermost thoughts and motivations simply by reading a third-party account of an incident online.
Or suggestions like this brilliant one….
But Omomayowa doesn’t want prove “the whites” right, not that she’s racist or anything.
After posting about her harrowing experience inside the Belly of the Beatnik, others came forward to share their stories, too.
And turns out your boy Cash is also….homophobic…? I have to stop that one dead in its tracks. Come on. Look at this guy.
I have gay friends who dress less gay than this chudstuffer. Honestly. This guy can’t afford to be getting all biased and bigoted out here, he’d have no friends. Would you want to invite TiddlyTwink home for Thanksgiving dinner? He doesn’t look like his social life can afford to get too choosy.
Here’s a style tip, asswipe – heroin chic is no longer a trend, and methamphetamine chic never was.
Although I don’t doubt that Princess Privilege had a shitty experience, I would bet the farm on it having exactly nothing to do with racism, sexism, ageism, transphobia, arachnophobia, xenophobia, or any inherent bias, because according to Yelp and Google reviews, the staff at Thrive are unilaterally dicks to everyone.
Huh. Equal opportunity Hipster contempt comes complimentary with every T-shirt marked up over sticker price.
Go figure. It’s almost like some spoiled twat took what could have been a legitimate customer service complaint that applies to everyone, chose to look at it through an identity politics lens, and divided everybody even more than they were before she decided to dip into an overpriced sweat hole full of used leather fringe belts and crusty concert tees. Just another day on social media.