Caught
3/23/06
He stands against the wall, looking as if he wished he could melt into the paint. His face attempts to show concern, interest in the complaints of the angry community members who are protesting his company's plans to develop yet more uneeded condos next to our school. He's very good looking, must be charming on the outside, this "community relations" person. But in here, he's caged amongst the enemy. I can see him squirming behind the smile, the condescending nod and I wonder if he really likes his job. He must know that every arguement we make against his boss's plans are completely legitimate and that there really is no excuse other than pure financial gain to follow through with this proposed development. He's married and I wonder if he'll go home to his wife and report on the angry rabble rousers, the whiners worried about their children being run over by increased traffic flow. His boss had had the gall at the last meeting to say that the originally proposed and approved senior housing plan would be more dangerous for all the "senior drivers." Oh, yes, we'll be much safer with triple the occupancy pulling out 4 times as many cars, drivers in a rush to get to work, to go shopping, to get to their lunch dates.
So he has to stand there, holding up the wall, doesn't do us the courtesy of taking notes, has no answers to the requests we had made a month ago and can't answer questions tonight. Buf of course, he's very good looking so that must serve some purpose. What the hell does he do for a living? Smile his boss's way into zoning variances, charm the little old ladies out of their due Environmental Impact Reports, flirt his way around traffic, easement and open space requirements?
We are all amazed, yet not surprised at his non-chalance. All he can do is hand out business cards and part of me wants to go pat him on the back adn say, "there, there, you poor man, it's not you we can't stand, it's the money men, the suits who send you out to seduce in their stead." But, that's not true. We dont' like him one bit, for all he stands for and how he stands there, un-prepared and un-interested. But we do like that he's there, that we can voice our dismay and disgust in a constructive Rogers Rules of Decorum kind of way. That we can lob our votes at a real person and see him squirm. We love see his face change colors and the sweat build on his brow and the chair person deny him a retort until his time is due. We love our 2 minutes to vent, our righteous indignation and our right to ignite a fire under his butt. We are David and he is the little toe of Goliath and we are so happy to stomp on it. Whether he takes his lumps back to headquarters and honestly reports them is moot. We doubt it. But we are stronger for having kvetched articulately and oh so revel in, having turned the headlights on the buck, watching him run off into the dark of the night.
He stands against the wall, looking as if he wished he could melt into the paint. His face attempts to show concern, interest in the complaints of the angry community members who are protesting his company's plans to develop yet more uneeded condos next to our school. He's very good looking, must be charming on the outside, this "community relations" person. But in here, he's caged amongst the enemy. I can see him squirming behind the smile, the condescending nod and I wonder if he really likes his job. He must know that every arguement we make against his boss's plans are completely legitimate and that there really is no excuse other than pure financial gain to follow through with this proposed development. He's married and I wonder if he'll go home to his wife and report on the angry rabble rousers, the whiners worried about their children being run over by increased traffic flow. His boss had had the gall at the last meeting to say that the originally proposed and approved senior housing plan would be more dangerous for all the "senior drivers." Oh, yes, we'll be much safer with triple the occupancy pulling out 4 times as many cars, drivers in a rush to get to work, to go shopping, to get to their lunch dates.
So he has to stand there, holding up the wall, doesn't do us the courtesy of taking notes, has no answers to the requests we had made a month ago and can't answer questions tonight. Buf of course, he's very good looking so that must serve some purpose. What the hell does he do for a living? Smile his boss's way into zoning variances, charm the little old ladies out of their due Environmental Impact Reports, flirt his way around traffic, easement and open space requirements?
We are all amazed, yet not surprised at his non-chalance. All he can do is hand out business cards and part of me wants to go pat him on the back adn say, "there, there, you poor man, it's not you we can't stand, it's the money men, the suits who send you out to seduce in their stead." But, that's not true. We dont' like him one bit, for all he stands for and how he stands there, un-prepared and un-interested. But we do like that he's there, that we can voice our dismay and disgust in a constructive Rogers Rules of Decorum kind of way. That we can lob our votes at a real person and see him squirm. We love see his face change colors and the sweat build on his brow and the chair person deny him a retort until his time is due. We love our 2 minutes to vent, our righteous indignation and our right to ignite a fire under his butt. We are David and he is the little toe of Goliath and we are so happy to stomp on it. Whether he takes his lumps back to headquarters and honestly reports them is moot. We doubt it. But we are stronger for having kvetched articulately and oh so revel in, having turned the headlights on the buck, watching him run off into the dark of the night.
posted by Barbery at 9:32 PM
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