Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Too Big To Fail


You've worked hard all your life. You feel that you've paid your dues. You have a job you're locked into and it has earned you new vehicles, a mortgage on a fancy house in a nice neighborhood free from minorities (but you identify as a progressive), your kids are finally out of school and your wife has become fat. Well, that's okay because so have you. Compared to the other guys down at the dealership, you think you still look pretty good. That designer pink dress shirt and matching socks sure looks sharp with creased jeans and comfy shoes.

You want to keep all that stuff, right? You earned it by the sweat of your brow. You had to put up with ornery customers and competition to get to where you are. Sure, there were plenty of times you had to lie, cheat, and steal to get what was rightfully yours, but that's just life. Get in your way and get run down because like you always say, when you go to work, it's head down and ass up. Ain't got time to wonder why. There's money out there and it's every man for himself. He who dies with the most toys, wins. At least, that's what you learned from your alcoholic daddy.

Church was always a waste of time and besides, they're all hypocrites. Sunday morning is the only chance to sleep in. After a couple of six packs on Saturday night, it's nice to get the extra sleep. You need to be well rested by Monday morning because it's a constant barrage of people coming in and trying to get the best deal they can. It's your job to make sure that doesn't happen. Time is money and each customer is allotted only so much. Coax 'em in, shake 'em down, give 'em a donut and make 'em feel that you have the most important job in the world. You are a serious guy and someone with which not to fuck.

That pretty much sums up your life and how you feel about yourself. You're important. A big shot making bank. Naturally, you're too big to fail. Nope, that's not gonna happen because if anything is important to you over and above your kid's lives, your marriage, and your phony baloney reputation, it's how much you've got.

You play the game, baby, you work it. Those who know you, know you're an asshole, but you give to United Way and that Pink Breast Cancer thing every year. Why, they even gave you a plaque last year for the donations that came from the dealership. Once in a while, you really do help someone, especially young women who find themselves short on a down payment or unable to meet a maintenance bill. You're such a good guy, you tell them "we'll work it out" with a nod and a wink. Come into my office. Shut the door, please.

And life goes on, year in, year out. The wife may threaten to divorce you but it'll never happen because by this time she's locked in as well. Besides, a fat, middle-aged woman will have a tough time finding somebody else who makes as much money.

Yes, life is pretty good. You're in charge. Hell, you don't have to play by other people's rules. You make the rules. You don't really have friends anymore. You have old acquaintances and once every ten years or so, you dress up and attend a reunion or a banquet where you smugly compare yourself to everybody else, ranking them in order of importance by how much they've got.

That's your life, pal. Barbecues, Bud Light, sports on the wide-screen, and herpes from that last young lady you helped out. Life may not be perfect, but it's good enough. Don't worry about it. You're too big to fail.

1 comment:

  1. From the Book of Henley:

    But, the barons in the balcony are laughing
    And pointing to the pit
    They say, "Aw look, they've grown accustomed to the smell
    Now, people love that shit
    And we're workin' it."
    Workin' it

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