I may be this thing,
you call human
I am composed of flesh
but my thoughts are deceiving:
Photoshoots are a mainstay of my entertainment career. Sometimes I am the production assistant for the gig, and I wear many ‘hats’ to aid in the entirety of the job. '
My co worker was driving the 15 person pass van to and from our set. We live together. They had purchased snacks and drinks for the job, and stored them in the back of the van.
Overnight, someone shoved a crowbar into the back doors, climbed in, ate an assemblage of snacks, and then proceeded to diarrhea over the rest of the bags, pulling the interior emergency tab to exit the vehicle. (What drugs might they have been on?)
The next day, someone had to clean the unopened bags of perfectly good, sealed snacks, as well as clean the carpeted flooring and plastic doors. It was a clorox and gloves mess.
—While cleaning the packages and rented car, I was struck by the analogy of this task to the first term of the 45th president of the united states: “we all had such nice things that we were trying to keep clean and now someone just came in, and shit all over them! Now we have to clean up this asshole’s waste and attempt to salvage for the rest of us, some of those things that SOMEONE paid for, because we wanted to use them. “
(Insert The National Parks, Democracy, Decency, Class, Ethics and again, The Environment etc. as the ‘something nice’ as applicable to your experience with #45)