Posted by
novelator on Sunday, December 20, 2009 8:35:34 AM
The Senator from Montana was obviously angry. "Don't you know who I am?" he said, tapping himself in the chest.
The
Federal clerk assigned to dispense the day's ration of bread laughed.
"You're just another Jon to me, pal." He gestured with his right arm.
"What've you got to trade?"
The Senator whipped out a hundred
dollar bill and slapped it down on the countertop. "I shouldn't even
have to stand in this line. I'm a US Senator. I was promised a free
ride."
"In return for your vote on...what?" The clerk looked at the hundred and shook his head. "Sorry, I can't take that."
"What do you mean?" the Senator snapped, his face reddening now. "That's a hundred dollar bill."
The
clerk sniggered. "Well, it was yesterday, but today it's just toilet
paper thanks to you and your buddies in Congress spending those like
there was no tomorrow. News flash: tomorrow's here."
"But my family's hungry. I promised I'd bring them something to eat."
The
clerk waved at the somber people in the long line stretching around the
corner behind the Senator. "Their family's have been hungry a lot
longer, thanks to you and your tax and spend policies. Now, if you
don't have anything of value to trade, you need to step aside, before
things get ugly like they do almost every day when the bread's gone."
"Do they have to come up with something to trade?" the Senator asked.
The
clerk shook his head. "They're all unemployed, on welfare now. You, on
the other hand, made too much money last year to qualify, or so it says
right here on my computer records."
The Senator dug in his front pocket and produced a gold piece. "That ought to buy me at least a thousand loaves of bread."
"Really."
The clerk grinned and shook his head. "Hate to give you a lesson on
economics, Senator, but that gold piece is only worth what the supplier
of whatever it is you need says it is. And it's only worth one loaf of
bread today."
"You can't do that."
"Funny, that's what
all those voters in line behind you told you and your friends in
Washington, but you weren't listening, were you?"
A man yelled out, "That ain't our Senator, is it?"
A woman cursed and other derisive voices rang out, epithets began to foul the air.
"Aw,
hell, just look what your presence here has done," the clerk said,
waving forward the line of armed men standing guard over the daily
ration of bread on racks. "I think you better go, pal, before the riot
starts." He looked up at the Senator. "So, you want a loaf of bread or
not?"
The Senator dropped the gold piece on the counter in front
of the clerk. "You're going to pay for this," he said ominously,
snatching his loaf of bread from the clerk.
"I'm going to pay
for this, how?" the clerk asked. "You and Congress gave away your power
when you sold out our nation. This is the change you created. And now,
you don't like it?"
"But I'm a US Senator."
"And that means what to the new world order ruling from Europe?"
"Well..."
"Look, pal, you really need to move along."
"You can't rush me off like that. Don't you know who I am?"
"I
don't care who you are," the clerk said testily. "I'm just a working
man, trying to feed my family. Do you know what I take home in return
for risking my life to dispense this bread each day?" He didn't wait
for the Senator to respond. "A loaf of bread. And my wife has to stand
in line for hours like the rest of these people and hope the clerk
working for his loaf of bread doesn't run out of shoes or socks or
toilet paper for my kids before she gets to the front of the line.
Welcome to the reality you created, Senator. We're all in this third
world together now." He held up the gold piece. "And to think you were so smart
that you actually gave a lowly working man the power to decide on a
daily basis how many loaves of bread an ounce of gold will buy."
Someone behind the Senator yelled, "Traitor!"
"Elitist," another screamed.
"Shouldn't be in this line, should you?" a third bellowed. "What's the matter? Your taxpayer feeding trough empty now?"
"You
sold us out," a fourth shouted. The angry murmurs grew louder, the
crowd pushing forward, jostling the Senator. The civilian guards
dressed identically in brown leveled their weapons.
The clerk
leaned over the counter and said to the Senator, "I'd run if I were
you. Those people behind you, the ones you screwed over time and time
again, are hungry and desperate. And you know what they say about
hungry, desperate people, don't you?"
"Don't you have somewhere I can go?" the Senator said nervously, clutching his loaf of bread to his chest.
"You wouldn't like the answer now any more than you did then," the clerk replied.