Lonely, My favorites, Socialism

Diaries of a Douche (Pt. 2)

It continues. This time capitalism is douchey.

He sits down with his head down and his chin downer. When the waitress comes he knows his order. Gumbo, orange juice. He orders OJ at a bar/grille not because he doesn’t drink alcohol, but because he wants to maintain the image that his job is not doable with alcohol. His job involves catching statistical anomalies in order to increase sales by finding what causes these anomalies. Most of the time, the anomalies are due to holidays. He can’t create holidays, though he has suggested it to his higher-ups. He describes his job as “catching statistical anomalies” because that sounds important. His job involves circling numbers on a chart that look different than the other numbers on that chart. His job is a game of “which of these things doesn’t look like the others.” His orange juice is finished in two gulps because he’s a man, and his gumbo is eaten methodically and the plates are stacked neatly when he is finished with them because he’s a grown up.

Every weekend he grows his facial hair out only to shave on Monday morning because he “doesn’t like the way it looks.” He likes the way it looks on Sunday night. Monday morning he sees other people.

While he’s eating his gumbo his charts get pushed to the right side, but his eyes keep wandering to the businessman to his left who is analyzing an excel sheet. Man, he misses it. It’s been less than a minute, but it’s been less than a minute too long. The businessman with the excel sheet is now more interesting because he has charts in front of him. Charts are interesting because charts imply money, and money implies power, and power implies success.

The bearded boy in front of him aggravates him becaue his hair isn’t tamed and his shirt has too many patterns. Untamed hair and untamed patterns don’t imply success. These things are things he doesn’t like because neither does society.


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