Connor, a young Irish lad with more confidence than common sense, swaggered into the local welfare office as if he owned the building.
His jeans hung low, showing off a pair of cartoon-covered boxers. Around his neck was a gold chain thick enough to tow a small boat, and his front teeth were covered in shiny gold.
He walked up to the counter, chewing gum loudly.
Clerk:
“Good morning. What can we help you with today?”
Connor slapped a form on the counter.
Connor:
“I’m here to collect me welfare check, love.”
The clerk looked him over.
Clerk:
“Do you have any income, Mr…?”
Connor:
“Connor. Just Connor. Like Beyoncé. And no, I don’t have any income. That’s why I’m here.”
The clerk glanced at his enormous gold chain.
Clerk:
“That’s quite a necklace for someone who is unemployed.”
Connor grinned.
Connor:
“Oh, this? Family heirloom. My cousin Mikey passed it down to me. He got it from a guy in Ibiza.”
The clerk looked at his gold teeth.
Clerk:
“And the teeth?”
Connor:
“Also family. My uncle Seamus had a two-for-one voucher at the dental shop. Said I had a smile that was too humble.”
The clerk sighed.
Clerk:
“All right, Connor. Before we continue, I have to ask: Are you actively looking for work?”
Connor leaned against the counter and lowered his voice as if making an important business announcement.
Connor:
“Absolutely. I’m just very selective. Can’t let these good looks go to waste flipping burgers. I’m thinking more… brand ambassador. Maybe an international DJ. I’ve got charisma, you know?”
Just then, a man in a sharp suit stepped out of the waiting area. He had overheard the conversation and walked over.
Man:
“Excuse me. Are you really looking for work?”
Connor puffed out his chest.
Connor:
“Depends. You hiring? I charge extra if I have to wear a shirt.”
The man smiled.
Man:
“Actually, I run a marketing firm. We’ve been looking for someone with your… flair for attention.”
Connor’s eyes lit up.
Connor:
“Seriously?”
Man:
“Yes. We’re launching a campaign for an anti-cringe awareness charity. You’d be perfect for the ‘Before’ photo.”
The clerk tried not to laugh.
Connor stood there, unsure whether he’d just received a compliment or an insult.
Connor:
“Do I get paid?”
Man:
“Oh, yes. But first, we’ll need to take your photo… exactly as you are.”
Connor immediately struck a pose and threw up a peace sign.
Connor:
“Deal!”
And that’s how Connor, the lad with the golden grin and gravity-defying trousers, became a poster boy—for exactly the kind of decisions you should avoid.