Rich People Jokes

Four of them sit in front of the coffeeshop -all matching cycling uniforms from their favorite craft beer company, all identically trimmed beards and hipster hairdos bought at some quaint overpriced barbershop, all identical Italian cycling shoes that lock them into identical

$6000 bicycles.

“I told him flat,” one says,

“If you ever make me walk into that account again, you can get O’Rourke to call on them!” They all buckle with identical laughter.

I’m on a five-minute break from my new line-cook job. At 48 years old, I work

80 hours a week.

Here it’s me, two college kids and a recently widowed mother working her third job.

When you work three jobs nothing a rich person says is funny.

When you work 80 hours a week on a line, nothing a person in tight biker shorts says is funny.

When you are broke when you are desperate and downtrodden the only thing funny is

how it would feel to throw one of those $6000 bicycles into rush-hour traffic and watch it crumple.

When not slinging drinks or cooking up something magical at The Brillo Box in Lawrenceville, Lou Ickes -- painter, poet, musician, hockey player, humble jujitsu student -- can be found on the third floor, painting his next masterpiece.