Recently Saint Paul Mayor Melvin Carter signed into law a minimum wage ordinance that will raise the minimum wage from it’s current $9.65 to $15.00 an hour. This is a major win for low-wage workers in city limits, and will allow for thousands of people to better afford the ever-rising cost of living within the Twin Cities, including my brother Greg, who is a major dick. That is why I vehemently oppose this ordinance.
My older brother Greg is a server at a Saint Paul Denny’s and currently makes the state minimum wage, which, in my opinion, is more than enough for that piece of shit. With this new ordinance, Greg will soon be able to buy healthier foods at the grocery store, even though, as children he consistently lied and said that if I ate apples I would grow a tree inside my stomach. That asshole shouldn’t be able to afford whole grains.
While the Saint Paul ordinance does grant some exceptions for youth workers and the Saint Paul Saints baseball players, I am calling for a specific exception for my brother, who once told me I was adopted even though I wasn’t. I was 33 years old when he did that.
This ordinance has the best of intentions, but it will ultimately have several unforeseen negative impacts, on me, specifically.
In their effort to protect worker’s rights, they took away my rights as an aggrieved sibling of Greg. In an an attempt to grant a livable wage, they are making my life unbearable by allowing Greg to afford a ticket to see a movie in theaters, even when he stole my allowance out of the sock drawer so he could go see The Emoji Movie with his girlfriend, Gina. He was 42 years old when he did that.
At the very least, the city of should pay me restitution for the Netflix account that I pay for, but can never watch because Greg changed the password. That fucker.