How can I ever change things?


By Itane Vero
- 75 reads
The President sits down at the table. The bodyguards look at each other in surprise but immediately position themselves strategically. It is their job to protect their client. It is not their position to tell him what to do. Even though they would not recommend it. To sit on a terrace in the city centre on a Friday evening with this beautiful weather. The town is teeming with tourists and office workers.
“People only know me from TV,” says the Head of State. “Or from social media. But my subordinates need to see me in public. They must regard me as a human being of flesh and blood. They have a right to that. I am not an alien or anything near it.”
Mr. Nobody looks at the man who is sitting opposite him. The visitor seems familiar to him somehow. That white dyed hair together with the orange skin, the red tie. But what does it matter. He has bigger problems than an unknown guest. How does he tell his wife, his children? That he was fired this morning?
“It is nice for the citizens,” says The Elected One, “that they can talk to me directly. That they can share their gratitude, their appreciation with me directly. Without scruples, without shame. Just to tell something personal, something intimate.”
Would the visitor like to offer me something to drink? does Mr. Nobody think. So far, he makes no move. He is talking to himself. But perhaps that is because it is Friday evening. Many business people are rather overworked and stressed at this point of day.
“My servants often have a certain shyness about telling what is bothering them,” says the Leader of the Country. “I can imagine that. Government leaders are also impressive people. Grand, Awe-inspiring. Their intellect, their experience, their wisdom, their calling, their wealth can easily be intimidating.”
Unemployed. Who would have thought that, sighs Mr. Nobody. Whereas previously a job within the government guaranteed security, stability. But that has turned out to be a myth.
“Hence this unexpected presence in town today,” says the President. “My advisors, my bodyguards, my wife, the all advised against this. This visit, this taking a drink on a terrace. An assassination attempt is so easy to carry out, isn’t it?”
Mr. Nobody beats the talking man across from him. Something is going on, he suspects. But what? In any case, a cold glass of beer doesn’t seem to be in the cards. Maybe it’s better this way. He has to go to his wife and children and tell them the bad news.
“I’m not afraid,” says The Head of State. “That’s what I want to prove. With my unexpected visit. By making myself so vulnerable, I want to show my subordinates how much I love them.”
Mr. Nobody remains seated. The frustration, the rejection, of his dismissal rest like a heavy anvil on his shoulders. What will his family think? What will become of all their fresh plans? The vacations? The new car? Moving to a better neighbourhood?
“Citizens need me,” says The Elected One. “They long for someone to look up to. Someone to give them a sense of security, of protection, of invincibility. A ruler who can show the common people the way. Who are they without my insights, my ideas?”
Mr. Nobody feels like getting drunk. To drink himself into a stupor. Should he do it anyway? With his last bit of money? It’s Friday night. Now’s the time. What should he order? Whiskey? Cognac? Wine? Secretly, he hopes that the weirdo across from him will open his wallet and buy him a drink. Even a gin tonic would do.
“Can you get me a milkshake?” The Leader of the Country asks his table companion. “And a cheeseburger? I’m hungry. It’s hard to be so big and important all the time. Hey, you! Mr. Nobody! Are you listening? Milkshake! A cheeseburger! Why are you pretending not to hear me? Is that your gratitude? Should I throw you in jail?”
There’s no other option than to leave, thinks Mr. Nobody. I don't think the guy with the ugly tie is going to offer me anything. So, Mr Nobody rises up from his chair, walks stiffly towards his house. Still not noticing the shouting and swearing of The Elected One.
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Comments
the moron's moron and
the moron's moron and psychopathic narcissitic rapist we know as the most powerful man on the planet isn't real, of course.
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I think we'd all run if we
I think we'd all run if we saw him come into a cafe!
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