Day 127 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a millionaire who looses all of it or a poor person who just gained millions of dollars.
Erin: I was the one investment that Charles refused to let go. One might think that a personal assistant in his financial state was ridiculous. However, without me he would have had so many small expenses I spared that did make me valuable. If there was one thing I did know how to do, it was being cheap.
“Where do you think, we are going,” I questioned as he got ready to turn into the parking lot of his favorite restaurant.
“To eat. I deserve a little treat,” he elaborated.
“Well then let’s go to McDonalds.”
“Micky whody whaty,” he questioned.
“9th street,” I instructed, continuing to give directions until we were parked.
“Do we seat ourselves too,” he asked still upset about the lack of valet.
“We order at the counter. We can instruct them that we will eat here or we can take the food to go. That way we can eat at your place”
“What is a Big Mac,” he started.
“Don’t mind that section of the menu. Let’s focus on the value menu,” I took my hands and turned his head to the section with the best deals. I could see the disbelief in his eyes as he turned slightly to see the prices of the items.
After some grumbling and fussing, he placed an order. He decided to eat there as the smell of the food had no place in his home and before I knew it he was humming with pleasure into a bite. Not shortly after he was asking a woman if she had tasted the French fries which to him “were just divine.”
Shannon: “That’s a crazy story, so they didn’t let you keep anything,” I questioned, taking another pan off the pile to scrub it down. He was working on stacking the rinsed ones for the dishwasher.
“Nothing but the clothes on my back,” he shook his head. “And the first thing you decided to do was steal food from a restaurant?”
“Is it stealing if I’m working for it now? I mean I didn’t dine and dash,” he shrugged, looking pretty proud of himself.
“By taking the food it’s basically a promise you’re going to pay for it with money, not labor, so yeah I’d say it’s sealing,” I corrected him.
“So I’m already a criminal?”
I hummed in thought. “Yeah, but people do what they think they have to when they need to survive. Although I’m surprised someone like you wouldn’t have any friends who could take you in, give you food,” I pointed out.
“I tried that. Apparently I’m not so pleasant. They actually loved seeing me fall on face, so I guess they only hung out with me because I could give them something,” he looked down and started pulling more pans from the water, getting himself soaked in the process. Clearly not used to this work.
“That sucks. I don’t know how much of a jerk you were to them, but fake friends are the worst. They know exactly what they’re doing, and there is something that makes me sick about that,” I scrubbed a little harder on the burnt crumbs I was working on.
“You sound like you’ve dealt with this before,” he seemed surprised.
“You know money is not the only thing people need,” I informed him.
He nodded pressing his lips together. “Oh I know.”
Write about how the rich get poorer and the poor get richer?