Extemporize: a tale from the kissing booth.
He's nothing stereotypical.
"Step right up; Come on! PIck a colour, any colour!" I barked to the pathetic pedestrians walking by. Every so often, I'd get a kiss blown in my direction, by an overly developed, ten-year-old-girl, wearing too much of mommy's eyeliner, or something of that sort. Most people walking by, just stared in disgust, though.
"My,my..." they would 'tisk' to themselves, loudly, "imagine that, being so young and working for a travelling carnival. It's dangerous, you know."
Usually I just stare politely through their fake exteriors, and get back to my barking. sometimes, the so-called customers even tell me to 'fuck off,' or spit on me!
I really hate this job. The funny thing is, I can't even quit. I'd like to say that I'm 'just in it for the cash.' I really would. But then I would be lying. I know I'm scum, I mean I'm a 'Carnie', but one thing that I am not, nor will ever be is a liar.
Mom runs the Ferris wheel, and dad...well, as much as I love her, let's just say mom 'gets around.'
So basically, I'm stranded working as a 'carnie', in a travelling carnival, at least until I'm eighteen. I have no friends, I feel like a gypsy, and all I know about mom's family, is the few things she's told me. I know that they disagreed about mom's wonderful 'life decisions', (like smoking pot and partying.) So she ran away when she was my age,and she hasn't been back since.
Heck, I don't even know my own last name. Shockingly, at sixteen, I don't even find that concept slightly disturbing. It's just the way my life has always been.
"My,my..." they would 'tisk' to themselves, loudly, "imagine that, being so young and working for a travelling carnival. It's dangerous, you know."
Usually I just stare politely through their fake exteriors, and get back to my barking. sometimes, the so-called customers even tell me to 'fuck off,' or spit on me!
I really hate this job. The funny thing is, I can't even quit. I'd like to say that I'm 'just in it for the cash.' I really would. But then I would be lying. I know I'm scum, I mean I'm a 'Carnie', but one thing that I am not, nor will ever be is a liar.
Mom runs the Ferris wheel, and dad...well, as much as I love her, let's just say mom 'gets around.'
So basically, I'm stranded working as a 'carnie', in a travelling carnival, at least until I'm eighteen. I have no friends, I feel like a gypsy, and all I know about mom's family, is the few things she's told me. I know that they disagreed about mom's wonderful 'life decisions', (like smoking pot and partying.) So she ran away when she was my age,and she hasn't been back since.
Heck, I don't even know my own last name. Shockingly, at sixteen, I don't even find that concept slightly disturbing. It's just the way my life has always been.