Another Week Without a Day Job

Comedian John Hastings takes us through his average, unemployed day.

Courtesy of John Hastings

EPISODE 13: Teenage Wasteland.

From time to time, I’ll house and dog sit to pay for my expensive, unemployed lifestyle. Yesterday’s house in question was in Rosedale, so I had the grand opportunity to bathe myself in the fine wine and pill addiction smells of the other world. My company, a young Labrador sharing the same cynical attitude towards life as I do, was ready for her stroll around the block – so off we went.

When she squatted to do her business, she got that same vacant eye while pooping that I get (although I also get it when walking the temporary “person of nondescript racial background or gender’s best friend” role for comedy supers in Kitchener). As we took to our constitutional, I noticed something: a large amount of broken glass and empty bottles with pockets of teenagers texting and making out over a pristine lawn. As a well-traveled man, I knew what was occurring: a house party in full swing.

We crossed the street to check it out, and as we did, I could hear the screaming riff between a teenage couple crescendo towards a nasty climax. The words spat forward from one cooler-guzzling girl over how her boy had gazed at the well-manicured rear end of another cooler-guzzling girl. Her tones were similar to that of a Chihuahua’s, while his remained guttural as if he were attempting to spit forward the “The Situation” as a solution to the situation. I merely laughed at their immaturity, walked back to my mansion, and finished my jack session in quiet. (Just kidding. I was very loud.)

Until next time,

–John Hastings.