Meet Kailey. She’s an entrepreneur pioneering one of the newest, most unique and lucrative fields in recent memory. She is a one-woman show who managed to bring in over $200K in salary last year. Is she an influencer? Nope. Fashion designer? Nah. Dominatrix? Not anymore! Kailey opens toys on YouTube. She has one of those channels featuring just her hands and her affected, child-like voice where she opens toys and surprise eggs. In five years’ time, she has built one of the most popular channels of its kind, taking in gobs of subscription and advertiser money. When you watch her channel with your 3-year-old, you’re struck by her soft, adolescent, grating voice which seems to entrance your child and indicates an impossible sweetness embedded into her very soul. Off-camera, Kailey consistently cuts people off in traffic, shooting THEM the bird. She leaves her grocery cart in the parking spot instead of putting it back in the cart return. She litters and has a stash of 200 N95 masks that she wouldn’t dream of donating to the hospital. And what does she do with all of those toys she opens on her videos? She throws them in the trash, despite having a niece and nephew because really she can’t stand kids. She thinks charities are just glorified companies and she kicked a cat last week. Hard.
As Courtney was handed the rule pamphlet, she swore she saw the Da Vinci code. Symbols swirled around, English words became foreign and strange. She somehow now knows how to set up a VCR after reading them, but still does not quite understand how to win atMahjong.
Last week she ordered each of them one of those gadgets that shatters your car window in case of a full water immersion. She also ordered a wind up radio. You know, in case the power grid goes down. She changed the air filters in the house last month, and commented that Olive Garden is a heck of a deal if you get a family sized pan with a five dollar take-home add-on. She’s been cracking open a Bud heavy after yoga class lately, and finally decided to try out a MyPillow.
But here she sits, six years after her appointment with WIDK reporting on milk prices, beauty pageants, the occasional car theft, Alderman election scandals, and downtown green space clean up efforts. This stupid little town doesn’t deserve her. She’s meant for greatness, and she despises their perky greetings on the streets....
