Upsetting
Friday, December 12, 2003
 
Like a 900-pound cat, the company splays out on its side while we greedily suckle its engorged teats.

Today is the holiday party, and they make fun of people who think it’s inaccurate to call it a “Christmas” party. So goddamned sensitive these days. Don’t they know this is America?

The United States, that is.

Students still shuffle into the classrooms, taking finals that they think will prepare them to go and get drunk at the holiday party. If they’re lucky, they’ll hook up with one of the dirty 30s from the smoking circle.

You just try to get out of there as fast as your food will digest. You work, you go home.

The men laughing and giving the speeches are the ones with all the options, the ones extra excited by how well the stock is doing. They make sure to have the holiday party on payday, so the “troops” will be cheerful.

Watch them drink and shine.

Be careful on your way out.

And don’t forget to wipe the milk from your chin.
 
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