Oh, shoot!

by illimitableoceanofinexplicability

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revoked

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In all honesty I would have been well within my rights (as outlined by the United Nations) to title this post, “Oh, shit!”, given the horrible news I received early this morning via text from the personnel department regarding my month long reign as employee of the month. “Oh, shit”!, is what I said when reading the message, I sure didn’t say, “Oh, shoot”!, I mean, who would? Well, who would that you could stand to be acquainted with any more than in passing, I mean, really? Imagine being there when someone receives the kind of devastating news I received in the early morning hours and hearing from them the reaction, “Oh, shoot”! You’d say to yourself, hell, anyone, even a young kid (still wet behind the ears) would say to themselves, “What the fuck, is this guy serious with this shit”?, and they, you and everyone we knew¹ would be perfectly justified (according to the United Nations) in doing so. But, I didn’t. I didn’t title this post, “Oh, shit!”, as I should have, no, I titled it, “Oh, shoot!”, because I thought I should for your sake. Because I imagined you groggy, as I was when reading that horrible text message, your eyes still cloudy with sleep, perhaps yawning, wearing your bathrobe and slippers, maybe (if you’re lucky) sipping some (life giving) coffee, and then, boom, without warning, a profanity followed inevitably by an exclamation point appears before you on the lit screen of your computer. Unacceptable. I just couldn’t do it, wouldn’t, would refuse, even under threat of torture or death, to expose someone, especially in the early morning hours, to that sort of shock. It’s not the way I was raised, but sadly, it is the way whoever sent me that text was raised. Yes, that is it. That’s all, that explains it perfectly, they were just raised differently, quite differently indeed.

So, anyway, there you have it. Now you know that my title was cruelly taken from me within hours of my announcing it to the world. Somewhere in the terrible corporate machinery that grinds the bones of men and women into powder with which to cover the terrible scars upon its leering maniacal face a decision was made, no doubt on a whim, that I, who has for days on end sacrificed myself, and denied those I love my presence, both physically and mentally, for the furtherance of this multinational conglomerate’s ravenous desires, is no longer deserving of parking at a closer distance to the entrance of my workplace. That I, who just recently received an injury to his heel, in the same area as the famed Achilles in fact, must hobble whatever length be required due to whatever reasons dictate my parking spot which no matter how early I wake, and make my way in the predawn hours, can never be even as close as the space allowed me for only two days before given now, very possibly, to some mortal enemy of mine who while also nothing but a slave like myself, slaves away happily for ‘The Man’ just as one would expect a mind numbed robot to do.

Well, there you have it. I guess I just needed to get that off my chest. ‘Rant’, perhaps you’d call it, for a bit. I was more than a little worried to do so I admit. Even after all this time, after all I’ve shared with you, I was concerned. Concerned, but determined to share with others in hopes that they may prosper from my failures, learn from my mistakes, though I knew there be every chance they may, after finding out the news that did itself force me to my knees (in the dark, quiet, and lonely, early morning hours), turn away forever in disgust wishing for nothing but to to spit out the foul taste I caused with my pathetic two day stint upon the throne as employee of the month.

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¹ Some of you may have made the connection here to the song ‘Dance Hall Days’ by Wang Chung which contains the lyrics

We were so in phase
In our dance hall days
We were cool on craze
When I, you and everyone we knew
Could believe, do, and share in what was true

which happens to be the tune I was humming when receiving the awful news, and which I had also been dancing drunkenly, as well as singing along to just last night, in celebration of my being declared employee of the month, at a local bar that, it now seems for other, sadder reasons, I will be frequenting quite a bit in the foreseeable future.

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