. . . just as your father did before you.
You don’t even have to answer it properly.
You know your orders precisely from how many times it rings and then falls silent.
But be careful.
Even a long silence-one full-up with finality,even-might just be a significant pause,
and so the phone rings again,
and so the message continues,
your orders grow in complexity,
-remember that one Friday afternoon? You thought your day was done?
and then an ordeal of rings and pauses that went on and on for one hundred and fifty-one minutes?
Yeah.
And now you gotta worry about if the phone breaks.
How would you know?
You assume some actual person would show up to beat the fuck out of you,
but this hasn’t happened yet,
so far as you know.
You vaguely remember some kind of beating . . . but that was more of a good time kind of beating,
when you made senior partner,
they sent a guy over for that,
the whole rubber hose and verbal abuse bit,
the works.
Just that one time.
Seems so long ago, don’t it?
Maybe you’ll receive an even more spectacular beating when you retire.
Something to keep you on track.
A dreamstar to guide your ship by,
a vision of homegoing.
That would be nice to have.
Not everyone’s got that, y’know, so you should work hard to earn a grand return, okay?
Yeah.
You’re suffused with gratitude for all the things in your life.
Especially your job, your duty, your vocation.
You really are.
