33 Pornstars You Gotta Follow On Snapchat

My mom genuinely and unabashedly loves Claim Jumper. If you’re not familiar, it’s a chain of gold-rush themed restaurants with hilariously large portions and a salad bar. They’re all dark and made of wood and every location has a chandelier made of deer horns. It’s pretty good. They have killer mozzarella sticks.

We had just finished dinner — she got seventeen pounds of meatloaf and I got a club sandwich that required twelve toothpicks to keep it together — when the check dropped. I had rehearsed this in my head. Be casual. Don’t even look at it. Just lazily hand the server your card, don’t even break eye contact with Ma.

She looked at me like I was an idiot, said I didn’t have to, but I told the server to take it.

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that,” she said.
“No it’s fine, I wanted to. I just came into a little money, so, you know. My treat.” I smiled. She didn’t.
“…You came into some money.”
“I know, right? You know that dumb clickbait site I’ve been writing for?”
She tilted her head, “No?”
“Oh. Yeah, I’ve been writing for this clickbait site.”
“What is that?”
Shit. “Uh, it’s like, you know Buzzfeed?”
“You’re writing for Buzzfeed?!”
“Noooo, no no no, it’s smaller. It’s, it’s like a start up I guess. Anyways -” the server gave me the check back. It was $70. How the fuck was it $70? I was guessing $40 tops. “Sorry, anyways they pay a $10 bonus for every 10,000 shares an article gets. Not clicks, like full blown shares, and I just got a check for $60, so…that’s pretty good.”
“60,000 people saw your article?”
“60,000 shared it, way more people actually saw it.”
“And you only got $60?”
“I, well, I know. I mean it’s just how it is. It’s good for a resume.”

My mom has this look. It’s her “seeing through the bullshit” look. She nods her head and acts all knowingly. “Well that’s great baby,” she said. “Can I read it?”
“Oh, it’s not, I mean, it’s not really my writing. It’s just this clickbait thing.”
“What’s it about?”

Ok, 15% of $70 is…shit. Ugh. Alright. I closed the little bill book, and looked across to my mom on the other side of the booth. Dimly lit. Full of faith.

“Um, have you ever heard of Snapchat?”