Tuesday, October 11, 2011

A Man Called Boy

Dear Diary,
I go to work everyday, happy to be employed. My employer knows of many hungry outside willing to work, so while this job sucks -- it'll probably get worse. My duties require wearing a jacket & tie (what's the function of a necktie anyhow?) and dealing with the public. Always professional, our clientele looks at me with a mix of respect, fear & envy. I read of friendly small town life, but here all is sterile, semi-efficient, & dull.

My boss and her boss speak to me in flat measured tones. They also seem to dislike their jobs. I'm ordered to complete work tasks and follow directions. My boss's boss's boss once visited our branch and ordered me: "Boy! - help me with this copier!" He yelled "Boy!" though I'm 41 years old and he's younger... I ran to help him. I dislike the name boy, but I heard him angrily yelling at my boss & called her "slut" - so I feel lucky in comparison.

When my wife & I go out to dinner, we wear nice clothes and look prosperous. Walking from our car to a restaurant, or for shopping, I notice more & more ill-dressed people eying us, perhaps with revulsion. Recently one asshole cursed me for no reason. When I told him to "Get a life!" he sort of choked & sobbed.

I sometimes wonder: Is this a Wonderful Life?

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