Commoners Don’t Tip

Mike bemoans the challenges of marketing WANDA and the lack of public engagement with his invention. Wishing to distinguish himself as an “artist” rather than a panhandler, he struggles to connect with onlookers, who typically express puzzlement rather than entertainment worthy of a monetary tip.

Good evening from the Columbus Commons! It is a crisp — and let’s be honest, cold — Monday evening on 11 December, and the park is absolutely adorned with Christmas lights. I’m out here with my trusty companion WANDA.

You might recall the tragedy last week in which some jackass stole and dismembered her, but we’ve got her back now. She’s feeling great, even if she has a bit of a distorted speaker from when I accidentally busted her against a concrete sidewalk.

I honestly don’t understand why so many people are confused by her. I get these puzzled looks from civilians around me like I’m carrying some alien technology. But it’s 2023 — it’s just speakers on a stick!

Bluetooth speakers have been around forever; you can grab one at Walmart for $20. Maybe I’ve just normalized this contraption in my own head, because I’ve had it for a year-and-a-half. But in all that time, I’ve only sold maybe 3 of them.

I try to stay classy about the whole thing. I’m not going to walk around shaking a bowl of change for tips — that’s fucking tacky. Plus, it makes one liable for "soliciting" charges from bored cops. I already dealt with those pretentious pricks at Easton; they tried to mess with me even after I’d actually bought something on their property.

I didn’t build WANDA just to make money; I did it for my own enjoyment. But damn, you’d think it would resonate with someone enough to compel them to buy one. I make it clear - buy me - or tip me if the performance is good. Instead, all I get are those cliché, puzzled stares. I guess that’s just Ohio for you; some of these people have never even left the state, so all I can do is enlighten them and keep preaching.

Anyway, I’ve got to hustle. I have a 20:00 date at the Olde Oak in Olde Towne East, and I’m already running about 10 minutes late.

Maybe I’ll actually get a tip tonight. Possibly… but probably never.