Playing The Game

PLAYING THE GAME
By Bookie Taylor


Given a goodly amount of evidence defining my position on this earth, I have to conclude, gentlemen “I am in trouble!” Now, it’s one thing to live in a society that declares all men are supposedly, created equal, but the men that speak with these forked tongues, are prettier than I am, are more articulate then I am, and strut as if they are of more value then I am. When I remove my colored glasses, I can see they are just as naked as I am, however since I have removed my colored glasses I am not allowed to vote.
Now, let us look at the real crux of the situation, Society can’t stand any deviation, in your position. For instance, If you are moving through a department store that’s ok, you are following the rules, but if you stop and just stand, you are not allowed to do that. You might have a good reason for stopping, as an old man one of my reasons is my heart is telling me to stop and rest, but guess what? “They don’t care!” You are a potential bottle neck to them and might slow their sales by a percentage point.
“This very thing happened to me!” Immediately, a bouncy, Little Store Clerk, ran up to me and said, “may I help you Sir?” I could see she was anxious to get me moving again, as there were several buggies backed up behind me. I turned and gave her my best blank stare, and said, “my wife is in here somewhere, and she left without programming me, and I don’t know what to do?” I didn’t think it was possible, but she managed to put on a blank stare, that far surpassed mine, and turned and walked away shaking her head.



I continued to study the merchandise in front of me, as disgruntled shoppers turned their buggies and went to the next Isle. Imagine their surprise, when they saw me coming down the same Isle from the other end.
It wasn’t but a short time when I heard the loud speaker announce. “Would the lady who has a husband in a grey flannel shirt, in the middle of summer, who claims you forgot to program him, please collect him from Isle Seven?”
Upon hearing this, I quickly went to the men's department grabbed a new shirt and hid in the dressing room. After about forty-five minutes someone knocked on the door and said, “are you about through Sir?” “Not quite,” I answered! I peeked out the door and saw the same Store Clerk with the blank stare.
It’s a conspiracy, they are out to get me, I thought. I should browse through the make-up department. I could really throw them off the trail. Suddenly, a loud bang beat on my dressing room door. Peeking out I saw my lovely wife and the Store Clerk with the blank stare standing behind her. I had no choice but to put on my best sheepish look and exit the dressing room...