absurdity to make Camus wince
she didn’t like the price of something
and told me so.
I told her I don’t decide the prices.
yes, I KNOW that! she said.
I’m just giving you feedback!
but why, if I don’t have a say in the prices?
I want to give her my own feedback:
namely:
your feedback is wasted on me, bitch
for here in the shop
I am least powerful person in the world:
I am the bottom of the food chain
I am a paid loser
paid the appropriate loser’s amount.
a convicted kiddie fiddler
can and will come into the shop
to push me around
and I have to be all please and thank you to him
whilst he does it
because my smiley-faced name badge
demotes me beneath even him
in this modern woke society:
it has to, lest the company be accused
of corporate discrimination,
so go ahead you kiddie fiddlers,
discriminate me
for working for the company
discriminate me
with the company’s approval,
for
I AM WHERE FEEDBACK GOES TO DIE.
I am the human shield
that protects shareholders
from public opinion.
why else would they hire me to serve you?
when or where
in any other circumstances
have you ever found a way
to truly be heard?
and why would
today
here
with me
be any different?
but the queue is to the back of the shop
and you will not take this constructive criticism well
so I just say
“thanks for your feedback”
and we con each other out of
whatever we have left
to be conned out of
and if you want a nice neat punchline
to this tirade
on the cannibalism of compassionate capitalism
then look in the mirror
before you tell Facebook how left-wing you are.