Well ya know how it is. You retire get a tiny pension…maybe, and Soc. Sec. to live on. Swell. From time to time ya has to go down there to prove your not dead yet. Social Security offices are pretty much the same all over the western world. Hard plastic seats wall screens tuned to corporate propaganda or cartoons, and seriously long waits. Sometimes there’s a show as some of the clients are insane or otherwise not quite house broken.
Unlike what Fox News sez not everybody there are blacks or junkies. Well okay there are blacks, and junkies. However things being what the are the population is as diverse as the true population of this land. The economy is working fine for one percent of the one percent. The rest of us are fucked.
Heck more than half of our armed forces live on food stamps things are so bad. Half the republic lives on the edge of poverty, and 50+ millions live in the real thing…lately being an old guy this includes me.
Speaking of me. I’m here because these swell folks take care of part of my utilities every month. Yeah you get this if you don’t get killed in a timely manner. You live long enough,…at least in liberal states they keep your lights on. This so you can read your other bills. In the red states you’re fucked.
You’re supposed to be a rugged individualist.
Mind you if they handed out muskets black powder, and lead rounds I might go for that Nazi American foundation myth. Ya know go out, and hunt stuff to eat. Like the white pioneers did after they murdered all the Native folks, and took their land.
I’d go to Prospect Park here in Brooklyn along with about two million other proles, and do some rather crowded hunting. This for giant rats mutated squirrels, and toxic pigeons. This should be fun for the first day or so. Till all the mutant game is evaporated.
After that we’d turn the flint locks on each other for our daily stew. By accident I finished up at the “Department of Not Quite Dead Senior Citizens” in only two hours. Last time it took from 8:30am to after 5pm. …and I went early.
My golden retirement nightmare continues.
Such was my Day at the Opera.
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