So here's the deal with Crust Punk kids.
Some people just can't deal with capitalism. It's a proven fact. They can't adjust to a life where you work, and then you get paid. Instead, they decide to forgo a college education paid for by their parents who live in Northern Virginia, and live on the streets. By live on the streets, I mean stay in apartments either paid for by their parents or by their friends' parents, depending on how deep they are in crust punk culture. They prefer a system of government and economy where everyone works and gets paid, and then gives their money to you. They call this communism, because there is a large amount of communication involved in the process, more precisely; cardboard signs that say things like "Traveling. Hungry."
True Story: Once, my ex and I were taking a stroll in Carytown. As is common in that part of town, we saw several crust punxxxx sitting on the sidewalk and asking people with jobs for money. They asked us, and I said
"Nope." My ex gave them a buck or two, and I preceded to tell her how insane it is to enable these kids. I probably said a lot more, too, because she told me how horrible of a person I am, insensitive, sociopathic, all that jive. Whatever, those kids are idiots and I have a job and make my own bank (for the most part, thanks granny). After hours of getting the cold shoulder, we return to my car. Passing the music store, we peer inside and OF COURSE we see one of those poor, homeless kids, buying a stack of CDs, presumably with the money my lady friend gave them (there is an equal chance they were using one of their credit cards that daddy pays off every month, it isn't easy eating vegan when you're homeless you know). I felt so vindicated. Sweet, sweet vindication.
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