Charades

An acquaintance, having just attended his high school graduation 50-year-reunion,
said he has arrived at the place in life where he doesn’t have to spend time with
people for whom he doesn’t care and so he only visited with certain people at the
reunion and then he left probably never having to think about some of those class-
mates again.

I’m so jealous.

I want to do exactly that but I can’t. Why? Every day of my life I have to spend
time with someone I do not like, someone I deplore, someone who gives me acid
indigestion, headaches and facial tics.

I’m beginning to feel like Inspector Clouseau’s boss.

I could get away from anyone else on the face of the earth except this person.

He’s ubiquitous. Remember the old Greek attributes of God: omnipotence, omnipresence
omniscience? The only one that applies to this narcissistic guy is omnipresence (thanks to the ratings obsessed media) even though he thinks he’s a Greek god.

If I’m not shielding my eyes from his face and sticking my fingers in my
ears at his voice, I’m having nightmares about him.

I’ll give you three guesses as to who this person is. Of course, you don’t
need any guesses. Thanks to me you already know it’s a male. But you knew
that before I identified the gender, didn’t you?

I can see it on your face — the grimace as you swallow the acid reflux, the
rubbing of your temple to ease your headache pain, the twitch in your left
eyelid and the bags under your eyes revealing your sleepless nights. Yes,
you know. He’s the person you can’t get away from either, isn’t he?

Well, it turns out misery does indeed love company and my company numbers
in countless millions upon millions.

Okay, everyone. On the count of three, who is he?

One, two, three — Oh, my, millions are gagging. We can’t even bring
ourselves to say his name.

I know. Let’s play charades. His name sounds like…. Everyone turn and
stick out your rump!!!

What? Nothing? You don’t want to insult your butt?

I understand.

Okay, just think of him in tennis shorts.

No! Wait! Where are you all going? Stop screaming. Don’t trample each other
on the way out.

It’s like a scene from The Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
Don’t anyone fall asleep! The Donald will take over your body
and mind but keep his rump.

Oh, no! A fate worse than death.

Help!!!! Somebody, please, help!

 

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