I’m the Bad Guy?
Last night my wife and I had a conversation.
“What’s for dinner?”
“I don’t know. What do you want?”
“Dunno. What do you want?”
“Looks like we’re going out.”
Seriously. Why I’m not picking up an Oscar for best original screenplay beats the hell out of me.
McFucker McWalgreens – A Tale of Two Shitties
At least in the United States of America people have rights. For those at the lower end of the equity scale, however, the sole purpose of allegedly having rights is so you can feel bad when they are taken away.
Be born. Grow up. Get a job. It’s the American way. And what do you expect in return, besides being subservient to a douchebag, I mean? You expect to be paid. Minimum wage, yo.
We all know the elitists at the top of the equity teeter totter hate minimum wage. People like Michele Bachmann wanted to be a lap dog for these folks. She famously said, “If we took away minimum wage – if conceivably it was gone – we could potentially wipe out unemployment completely because we would be able to offer jobs at whatever level.”
Yeah, if only we could get that minimum wage down life would be better for us all. At $1/hour there would be virtually no unemployment. Hell, at a penny an hour every American could have 10 or more jobs and still not enough money to buy enough food to survive.
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Meanwhile at the Bank of Karma
Once a week I stop by my bank to deposit my paycheck in the ATM machine. It’s hardly worth it to drive to the bank, since the cost of gas is more than the amount printed on the check, but I figure, “what the hell?” That check is the only tangible sign of my employment so I might as well go through the motions of depositing it.
The layout at my bank is simple. There is the bank building with two ATM machines built into the wall. Then there is a sidewalk. Then there is a FIRE LANE marked with a red curb and poles the entire length of the bank. Then there are about two lanes of asphalt where cars can drive through the parking lot. Last but not least there are the parking spaces. Incidentally, the ones closest to the ATM machines are all marked “handicapped.”
Every trip I make to the bank to deposit my paycheck in the ATM goes a little something like this:
- I pull my vehicle into a marked parking space that is not handicapped. This puts me a whopping 40 feet or so away from the ATM machines.
- I walk from my car in the direction of the ATM machines.
- As I walk to the ATM, one or more cars pull up and park along the curb in the FIRE LANE.
- The drivers who parked in the FIRE LANE reach the ATM and begin their transactions.
- I finally arrive at the ATM machines where I must now wait in line behind the fucking assholes.
My life is living proof of the old adage: Nice guys finish last.
How am I supposed to handle the situation? These jerks generally leave their engine running, the car door open, and their music blaring. I suppose I could hop in and do them a big favor by relocating their vehicle to a more karma-appropriate parking space, say the bed of the nearby river? That would be enjoyable but what would it really accomplish? I’d be in trouble and more assholes would simply take their place the next time.
I could hate them but do nothing else. Also a bit satisfying in the short term but that takes energy and is generally a waste of my time.
The thought does occur to me that I could park in the fire lane, too. You know, beat the assholes at their own game. That would certainly level the playing field and increase the odds that people will use the ATM in order of arrival. But I feel if I do that, then the assholes still win. They win because they have successfully recruited me to their side. No, I draw the line at becoming that which I hate.
So I just keep pulling into that parking lot, keep parking in a marked space, and keep going to the back of the line. Is that the ultimate reward for making deposits at the Bank of Karma?