[critique] [Comedy] [Beginner] Wrote this short story for my High School English course late one night before it was due, the class seemed to like it but my teacher suggested to me and a few others to take them to a small school publisher. What does r/writing think?

                   I Wore Them Before They Were Cool


  I strapped on my new shoes. "Vans", a small tag read on the side of the shoe. I cut it off with a pair of scissors, I was not about to be some advertisement puppet for a corporation. As I exited the house my father called "Have a good day, John." I scoffed, audibly enough for him to hear of course, I didn't need his charity. I threw my scarf around my neck and pulled out my tape player, iPods were for the young and foolish. As I mounted my penny-farthing (small wheel in the back, big wheel in the front, leave normal bikes to the other sheeple), I resumed the new book on tape I found at Barnes and Noble, and left for work.
I cursed at myself for forgetting my lens less glasses at home, I need those. A man in a pick-up truck shouted what I could only imagine were slurs against my penny-farthing at me. The jokes on him though, this audio book was great. Did I mention I was wearing my new Beats headphones, good because I wasn't. My headphones were custom-made, 100% mahogany wood, the science doesn't even make sense to me, but the guy who sold it to me said they were the only pair in the world. That was all that really mattered in the situation.
I finally rolled up to Starbucks, my place of occupation, and the only corporation I could tolerate. I looked inside at all the happy faces inside enjoying their seven dollar drinks and free wi-fi. As I stepped in, I bumped into a guy, knocking my scarf off. Instead of apologizing I gave him a look of pure hatred, that was a designer scarf. "Damn hipster..." I heard him mutter as he walked away. He had the same wood headphones as me, that hurt much more than his words.
I took over the shift for my co-worker Will (Oh how I hate Will). I stood there, taking order after order. A heavy woman came up to the counter and ordered a milk chocolate frappuccino with two squirts of nutella extra and whipped cream. "Would you like some diabetes with that heart attack Ms.?" I asked her. "Excuse me?" she exclaimed, jaw unhinged, prepared to consume me. Before I fainted my manager pulled me aside. "John that's the third time you've insulted a customer," he whispered. Matching his tone I whispered "I... yeah you're right." In a grim tone he said "Give me your nametag John, you're fired." Unhinging the plastic from my chest I cast it to the floor. Then I tossed fatty some sugar packets. If she wanted to kill herself I may as well have pitched in.
I slowly hopped on the farthing. The mood was too sad to resume the book tape. I gingerly pedaled my way home. "Nice bike, loser!" screeched some teenager driving by. "IT'S A FARTHING YOU MONGREL" I retorted, always quick on my feet, or rather pedals in this situation. I slowed as I approached my driveway. The house had a welcoming glow about it. Perhaps it was time I recognized that my parents were there to help me, and support me, to always care for me. I felt it was time to turn a new leaf. I entered my home, removing my shoes at the door. "Hey honey, how was your day?" My Mother inquired. "Screw off, Mom" I replied instinctually. "Hey John." my father said. "Shut up Walter" I quickly retorted, realizing how hard it was to turn this leaf. Collapsing onto my bed, a sudden realization flooded over me "Aw, Dammit my scarf's still at Starbucks!"