We’re Supposed To Be Civilized
It’s enough to make you want to play dead
I don’t know.
It’s like every day in the news there’s new levels of horror and madness.
I feel were rolling down into the Chaos aboard a carnival-to-hell ride.
It’s all in the news.
I used to like reading the news. But now….I can’t say I can stomach much more of this.
The Lobotomy dude over at the next table. He notices my distress.
You seem to be distressed,” he says.
“It’s the war.”
“War is Hell.”
“I’m trying to read about the war. You know. See how Ukraine’s doing.”
“The war distresses you.”
“No. War is hell. But at least it makes sense. It’s the other shit I’m finding…”
“Oh?”
“I’m trying to read about Ukraine and this story pops onto my screen:
“He’s an old dude like me, working a side hustle. Uber Eats. And what do they do? Teenage girls, for christ’s sake. They kill him!”
“Well…” the lobotomy dude says.
“Yeah?”
He’s stars into space.
He’s gone now for a while. This happens to him occasionally. He’ll just zone out. Meanwhile the Smelly Irish dude pipes up.
“I hear what yer saying,” he shouts from the adjacent table.
“Nothin makes sense anymore. Young Lasses kill’n old men…”
“He’s driving Uber Eats.”
“I use em meself.”
“It pisses me off! He’s an old dude like me. I got a side hustle. I know what it’s like.”
“Sure you do. You drive for Uber Eats.”
“No. I don’t. I’m a Brand Ambassador.”
“Well then…”
“It’s a side hustle. That’s what I’m saying. The same thing!”
I’m so pissed I don’t even try to smell him.
He says. “I see what you mean.”
“You don’t! There’s another one! Just today!“
“You say?”
“Today! I’m talking about today!“
“Calm down, lad! What happened today?”
“Another Uber Eats driver!
“Another one?”
“Poor guy’s doing his side hustle! Driving around. Texting his wife. Making deliveries. All the while he’s making deliveries him and his wife. They’re texting each other. You can tell.”
“Tell what?”
“Him and his wife! They’re real close!”
“You understand what I’m saying?”
“I do, lad. I do.”
He’s a good guy, this driver. He’s texting his wife. You know. Making deliveries. Texting his wife while he makes deliverys. They’re a real nice couple, god damnit. They’re not kids. He’s fifty nine years old. And he’s out working. Doing a side hustle!”
“Slow down, mate. I hear you.”
“He’s driving Uber Eats, for christ sake…”
“You said so.”
“Him and his wife…you can tell they’re close…she’s texting him while he makes deliveries…”
A nice couple. They’re not kids. You can tell they fit together. A nice couple.
“It really pisses me off. I don’t know why, exactly. It’s…it really pisses me off.”
“You said so,” Irish says.
“I can’t help it, man. She’s texting him find out when he’s coming home!”
“Calm down.”
“It just pisses me off!”
A nice couple.
I can’t say that enough. He’s no kid. He’s working his ass off for his family.
It’s his last delivery of the night.
He shows up at this house.
This Dude answers the door.
Dude invites him in.
“I wouldn’t go in there. Would you go in there?”
“Not on your life.”
He’s making a delivery. I wouldn’t go in there. But this poor guy. He’s goes in there.
He’s a trusting Dude.
He goes in there. And this Monster kills him. Slaughters him. Dismembers him. Stuffs him in garbage bags. For what? A few bucks! A few bucks!”
“It’s a madness.” Irish says.
He’s focused on me.
“A madness.”
“It makes no sense.”
“We’re supposed to be civilized.”
“Some of us are.”
“We’re not.”
“Most of us are.”
“We’re not,” the lobotomy dude says.
I’m looking at The Irish dude.
He shakes his head.
6 thoughts on “We’re Supposed To Be Civilized”
I disappear from the public eye and get rediscovered quite often.
Burgess Meredith
Witness Mr. Henry Bemis, a charter member in the fraternity of dreamers. A bookish little man whose passion is the printed page, but who is conspired against by a bank president and a wife and a world full of tongue-cluckers and the unrelenting hands of a clock. But in just a moment, Mr. Bemis will enter a world without bank presidents or wives or clocks or anything else. He’ll have a world all to himself… without anyone.
OPENING NARRATION by Rod Serling
THE TWILIGHT ZONE
Season 1 episode 8
Time Enough At Last
staring Burgess Meredith
should not have went in. supposed to just drop off the food and leave. I wouldn’t have gone in if Mr Rogers answered the door Let alone this homie.
You’re in prison and you’re in there stabbing people. They let you out! You violate parole. Nobody picks you up! You’re roaming the streets or living with people scared shit of you. You’re a Monster. How many of these people are out there?
And…it is getting worse.
We were once bad. Then trump came along and made all this meanness acceptable. When you have a man running for President of the United States telling one and all that it’s OK to “beat the crap” out of people over and over and over again, what do you think is going to happen. Everyone gets a little meaner and, at the other end of the spectrum, the bad guys just go crazy. Did we really think there would be no consequences to trump’s behavior?
I heartily agree