First World Crisis

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Peggy lay on a lounge chair by the pool of an all-inclusive resort in the Dominican. “I’m having a first world crisis,” she said to Steve.

Steve looked over at Peggy. She was still sunning herself. “What’s that?”

“It’s a problem that you only find in the first world.”

“I know what a first world crisis is. I was asking about yours,” said Steve.

“It’s the anxiety I’m feeling on the last day of vacation realizing that tomorrow I’m going back home,” said Peggy.

“That’s a real crisis. I feel deeply for you. I’m looking forward to going home,” said Steve.

“Why? You’re in the same boat I am,” said Peggy.

At that moment a waiter replenished their margaritas.

“I’m gonna missed having a waiter serve me,” lamented Peggy.

“I wonder what it’d take to own a place in the Caribbean with waiters and servants?” asked Steve.

“I think we’re a few million dollars short,” said Peggy.

“It gives us incentive to work harder to get back here.”

“According to my calculations, it’ll take us about thirteen years to earn a million dollars.”

Steve sighed. “Now I’m experiencing a first world crisis.”

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About vanyieck

There is nothing about me that is more interesting than you. I am a man. I have a wife and family. I have a career. I have two dogs. I
This entry was posted in first world problems, humor, humour, short fiction, short story, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to First World Crisis

  1. Pat says:

    Yeah, it looks like we are all stuck here in Hamilton, Ontario!!!!!!!!!!!

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