elizabeth

5 times Dan and Phil click baited us

📍Happening.

day 2: I DROVE MY CAR INTO THE SEA????!??!???!!!

the bit was that I was "put in jail for having too big a heart" and customers could donate to my bail to get me out (and the money would go to a children's hospital or something)

now. I was very clearly a teenaged employee handcuffed inside a large cage. and I would honestly tell people that I had been in there for hours. and people would say, that's terrible! that's awful! and I would show them my wrists red from the tight handcuffs, and say but I'm sooooooo close to making bail.

and then they would dump some cash in the basket, I'd thank them, and they'd walk away.

and every so often, one of the managers would come by and collect some of the cash, so I could keep being soooooo close to making bail.

I was very good with this bit. Parents with small kids would pay $5-10 if I told their children I had been placed in jail for not cleaning my room/doing my homework, etc. For people in their 20s, I'd threaten that I was very bad at playing the harmonica, but I WOULD play it and we'd all suffer unless they paid me. and for the most amount of money, older men in suits would almost always pay $20s if I avoided eye contact and stammered a lot.

eventually, the managers started to feel bad because I was in the cage so fucking long and often, that I'd need someone to brace me when I got out because I'd have no feeling in my legs. wobbling like a newborn giraffe.

but I would also rake in at LEAST $100 an hour in charity.

so they were like, hey champ. can we, uh, give you a pillow to sit on. in the cage. would you like a pillow so you're not just sitting on a cold metal slab. can we give you a pillow.

and I had to explain to them that if they gave me a pillow, people would think I was more comfortable, so they wouldn't feel as bad, so I'd bring in less money.

the compromise was that they'd bring me a nice coffee every couple hours, which I would have to try to block with my body from the customers.

all this money went to charity. that's what the money was for. it's what was on the sign. but how much they were willing to pay was very contingent on how comfortable I looked, never mind the fact that I was still a teenaged employee handcuffed inside a cage.

and out of the dozens of shifts I did this on, not ONCE did ANYONE say, hey kid I'm going to go talk to your manager because what the fuck is going on here. they would just drop money in the basket, and I'd thank them and sip from my secret drink.

I actually had people get MAD at me that I told them I was far away from bail, they donated like $15, and then 20 minutes I got let out because my shift ended.

again. the money was for charity. it was on the sign that was very clearly placed on the upper half of my cage.

took me a bit but this is roughly what the cage looked like, without the middle platform

It was something that was originally used in the back for carting boxes, but was repurposed into a teenager cage

they'd wheel it out and the one open side would be backed against either a wall or a large display (like very tall rows of soda boxes or something)

Then I'd get in, they'd push the thing so it would be as flush as possible against the wall, and then I'd stick my hands through the bars for them to handcuff me. there'd be a sign up top explaining the bit, and then a shopping basket tied on front for people to drop the money into.

the handcuffs were fake, and I could unlock them myself for obvious safety reasons. I would get more donations if they were tight, though.

After maybe a month or two, I asked for a harmonica to sell the bit. they also tried giving me a mug, but it was too awkward with the handcuffs. I got kind of okay at playing the harmonica, but the main point was just to do one sharp blast to startle people into looking down, and then I'd threaten that I had no idea how to play, but would do so anyway unless they donated to my bail. managers actually got me a prison jumpsuit to throw over my uniform, but it was really fucking awkward so we stopped eventually. I also got a metric fuckton of mardi gras beads so I could lure small children over, to then mournfully tell them of my imprisonment due to not cleaning my room, etc. parents would be moderately irritated that I'd lured their children over with beads, but would respect the game that I'd given their kids a whole new fear. I had some parents even ad lib what I could have been thrown in prison for. guaranteed donations.

obviously, the prison bit worked best with younger girls. my roughly 50-60 year old manager once congratulated me on doing so well with the donations because I "looked like a cute sad little puppy in one of those RSPCA commercials. like a helpless puppy or a kitten." wearing makeup and earrings also increased the rate of donations.

had to explain to another girl how I regularly got $20s, which was when an older guy in a suit walked by I'd rattle my handcuffs slightly to draw attention. 10/10 times the guy would walk over, and I had to tell this girl like. If you avoid eye contact and sound uncertain you will get at least $20. I am sorry. this is for children's cancer research.

cannot stress enough that the other employees fought to get to be in the cage. customers were so awful and the weather was so shitty. jail meant sitting down with very few expectations, talking and joking with people.

Anyway. Shit was definitely not an allegory, though it could be used as one for about 11 different things.

Money can’t buy me love