bizarreville

Whimsy, satire, irreverent humor, and hijinx from a place not so far away

The Bizarreville Chronicles

The line had 100 people in front of him.  One hundred bodies fuming from having to wait for one of two highly unmotivated, thoroughly discharged clerks to finally get to his or her number.  “62,414” blared the loudspeaker.  Was this the number of people this week?  This month?  He looked at his ticket…62,513, now only a mere 99 shmucks to wait for.  This was just to get a damn drivers license renewal…not an unemployment compensation check, or a donated kidney, or anything that made more sense to be waiting for.  The photo camera must be on the fritz or something.  Why else would there be such a nonsensical queue?

He thought himself to be better than the shlubs and shlubettes that were supposed to be in long lines like this.  After all, he was a prestigious lawyer who became a congressman, with a law practice on the side, not some ordinary Joe.  Joes, yes, they should wait in lines.  They had much less important things to do today…hey, maybe this little exercise was the highlight of their drab day.

He thought back to the old days when his life was more drab…back to the days just after graduating college with no job offers in his field of study.  A friend of an uncle had convinced him that Entomology was the hot career of the next century.  Fact is: he truly did thoroughly enjoy his Masters thesis work researching/examining the Eating Habits of the Housefly.  But, sadly, no corporate recruiters seemed to make the seemingly obvious connection on how this unique skillset could help guide them on their roads to excellence.  Vinnie Shlango did, however, when he offered him the pizza delivery job, instructing him to get creative in devising clever diversions to keep those nasty flies from buzzing the pizzas in the back of the van.  Even that drab job had its interesting moments.  Never did quite figure out if it was the pizza itself or the diversion that caused so many customers to complain.  Could have been the box made of recycled paper…who knows what sleazy components could have gone into that mixing tub?  62, 415 squawked the speaker.

Maybe he would introduce a bill into congress to address this ridiculous bureaucratic nightmare of simple license renewal.  Could be a tough sell to his colleagues who tended to favor complex bureaucracy and dismiss simplicity.  This was the organization, after all, that figured out how to make the Postal Service less efficient, more customer un-friendly, and more costly…accomplishing what was known as the “Trifecta” in their little circles.  The Licensing function clearly already had 2 of the 3 legs, and probably just needed a fee redoubling to get the third.  62, 416.

He was gradually becoming a convert to the notion that people wanted rules and procedures, not so-called freedom.  Freedom meant unfairness to many people, giving free rein to exploiters to run amok and trample the exploitees.  Thinking back, hell, even Vinnie was a friggin’ exploiter, demanding a cut in all his delivery boys’ tips to “help pay for gas.”  All that Econ 101 Milton Friedman Free to Choose malarkey was just capitalist propaganda, assuming that people were smart enough to make their own wise choices.  Ha, wishful thinking!  These were people who struggled on whether to watch the NFC or AFC game of the week, let alone make decisions on whether to put in an extra hour on the job, or sign up for a course to advance their education.  62, 417.

A lady’s voice came across the loudspeaker saying that the office would close in 15 minutes, and that all those with numbers above 62,426 could come back tomorrow when the count would resume.  She apologized for the long wait, saying they were just shorthanded today, and maybe it would be better tomorrow.  She encouraged everyone to not lose their ticket, or else would have to get a new number at the back of the line.  One line-waiter got frustrated and belligerent, yelling out “This is bull$#!t.”  Within 3 seconds, a security officer confiscated his ticket and whisked him out the door.  A hummmm resonated through the crowd.

The congressman pulled out his Blackberry and sent a message cancelling all meetings for the next day, and putting meetings the following day on tentative hold.  Trifecta potential for sure, he thought.  62, 418.

 

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction.  Nothing in real life could be this crazy.

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This entry was posted on Saturday, August 24th, 2013 at 3:13 pm and is filed under Bizarreville Chronicles. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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