While many easily duped by luxury status and Instagrammable events were conned into the now larger than Altamont disaster that was the Fyre Festival (or rather, wasn’t the Fyre Festival), the largest sufferers of being punished for their lack of survival skills thanks to an ever-constant reliance on Mother and Father buying their way out of things were, incidentally, Bushwickians and residents of “East Williamsburg” (which, as we all know, is a made up place–like Neverland).
As more details of the catastrophe have been unveiled, including people accustomed to Michelin star meals (Farto, anyone?) having to deal with Kraft cheese sandwiches served in Styrofoam containers, the ratio of people present at the “festival” has turned out to be largely in favor of those from the Bushwick/East Williamsburg area–granted, they were all L.A. transplants.
“I don’t understand. What did I do to deserve being locked in an airport terminal with a slew of drunk bitches when I could have just gone to someone’s apartment on a Saturday and done the same thing more comfortably?” wailed Sadie Satin, a 22-year-old who has never had to eat processed cheese or drink off-brand liquor in her life. But at least she managed to get off the island–many of her compatriots are still there wondering if they’ll ever get back to the quiet life of Bushwick.
Written by Genna Rivieccio