...we need the wood for the artisan crafted wood fired pizza oven.

To all the twenty-somethings who identify as "blue collar" or even "working poor" because you chose a service industry path: get over it. Your shallow martyrdom is a joke. Most of you came from middle-class families in lily-white suburbs and are still on your parents' car insurance and family cell phone plans. You wouldn't know working class hardship if it bit you in the ass.

You chose this career for the tattoos, the substance abuse, and the fact that it was a limp-dick mild-rebellion against your parents' boring careers. Welcome to Portland, yet-another-Peter-Pan. You'll never grow out of it!

Imagine being born into poverty (in America? Shocking!) without access to good schools, health care, birth control, etc. Golly, you might have ended up a single mom at 19, raising a family in a shitty apartment complex in Rockwood instead of complaining about how hard it is to park your car (still registered to your parents in Ohio, of course) near your $1200 studio apartment on Belmont.

But you earn it, you see: cracking those tall cans of Rainier is the definition of hard work. Here's another dollar, thank you for your service! I don't know what I'd do without you all.