___ ___ ___ ____ __ _____ __ ____ __ / __\ /__ \ /__ \ / __// | / /__ \ / / / / |/ | / /_/ // \ \// \ \/ /_ / /||/ // \ \/ / / / /| /| | / __ // / // / / __// / | // / / / / / / |/ | | / / / //___/ //___/ / /__/ / / //___/ / /__/ / / | | /_/ /_/______/______/____/_/ /_/______/\_____/_/ TEXTFILES ---------------------------------------------------------------------- # 93 / Saturday the 22nd of June 2003 / http://addendumtextfiles.org ---------------------------------------------------------------------- The Object of Suspicion, by Steak ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯ Being part of a majority sucks. I’m sure that being part of a minority also sucks like hell, but I can assure you that being part of a majority sucks just as much, if not more. This particular majority being the typical white young male. We are not special, we have no obvious religious dogma, we have no particular faiths or traditions (unless you count fashion or trends in gadgets etc) but we seem to get picked on. Its late, I’m sitting at my computer with rock music blasting out of two huge speakers in front of me, I’m tired and I can bet that this isn’t making much sense is it? Well you’ll have to forgive me for that. I’ll try a different approach. I was down the local supermarket with Spud late the other night, by late I mean round about the eleven o’clock range. We had decided to take a trip down there to see if we could get something to eat and perhaps see if we could get Spud’s credit card [that he had left on top of a speaker recently] to work in the atm down there. So we went into the supermarket where I bought some munchies for the night and Spud bought some alcohol. Anyway, upon leaving the store we went to see if the credit card would work. As we were waiting at the machine for it to process the phucked card we were cracking the odd joke and having a bit of a laugh. At that particular point the mall happened to be completely empty, the hour was to blame, it being so late and all. But out of the corner of my eye I happened to spot someone else that I had not seen on my first survey of the grounds. Hiding away behind side of the toilets like a little boy with a plastic telescope had been the rent-a-cop mall security guard. Fake cops, people who actually want to be cops, but aren’t good enough, so make do with being pretend cops. We stood at the atm, waiting for the damn thing to work and all the while with me watching this little blue and black penis out of the corner of my eye, moving closer and closer. Very soon he stoped moving, he was quite close now, less than five feet. Just standing there, not saying anything, not moving, hardly even making himself apparent, just standing there, watching the two of us crack jokes by the automatic teller machine. Spud hadn’t noticed the guy yet, he was still wrestling with the keypad. I made a few subtle gestures to indicate our peaceful tranquillity had been intruded upon and spud looked up. The security guard and us locked eyes, for a few vital seconds you could cut the tension between us right there, in the mall with a knife. The ATM beeped and buzzed signalling the rejection of the credit card and causing the security guard to jump slightly, we stayed rooted to the spot, eyes not moving from his for a second. Spud turned slightly, picking his rejected card back from the slot and gingerly placing it in his wallet. Both parties stood there for a few moments still just watching, him the authorities, us the interested, curious if only a little bothered elusive second party. We looked around and sort of realised that we had nothing else to do here, we had done our shopping, checked the card and now were finished with this place of business. We moved slowly towards the exit, the security guard was hot on our heels, making sure we didn’t pull out a brick, throw it through the baker’s window and make off with all of yesterdays bread, or something like that. We exited and made our way over to the car. The security guard followed us out onto the pavement, stood by the exit, arms crossed, watching us get into the car and pull out of our parking space. As we drove past him Spud rolled his window down and made a remark about how nice it was to be the object of suspicion. Of course he didn’t rise to the bait, they never do you see, it’s the arrogance one has to have to be one of those pricks that shields them from reacting to remarks like that. They literally believe they are too good, pathetic isn’t it? I really wish that it was just one isolated incident like this but it’s not, this sort of thing happens all the time, and not just with security guards with over active authoritarian aspects of their personality, it’s with kids too. Just because I happen to be a tall, white, late teenage guy (see I told you I would eventually get back to that point) I seem to attract a fair amount of dirty looks from other people of roughly my same configuration. Were ever I go it seems as if people are looking at me, sizing me up, just daring me to start them. I’m almost one hundred percent sure that some of this is just my over- active paranoia and neurosis manifesting itself in my day to day life, but I reckon that quite a bit of it is actually just the general fucked-up-ness of this world as a whole. People actually want to start fights for some reason, not content with sitting at home and playing halo on the xbox that mommy bought them, they want to go out into the world and find other like minded idiots to wrestle with and to prove their eliteness. Just looking at someone for too long in this day and age can end up with you having to do something unpleasant to someone you only just met which can get you into trouble with old blue, or worse still, into hospital. However by just looking at society today you can see that people seem to like this thing. It’s obvious, they like doing it or else they wouldn’t do it. They like to show off to people how macho they are and how well they could kick the next guys ass in a fight. It’s so fucking primitive, it’s just animal instincts that we still haven’t been able to shake, and it so stupid because if we don’t shake these instincts the world is going to continue to be the most shitty place in the universe to live in. If we don’t do something about it, it’s never going to get better, its never going to be a utopia and no Zefram Cochrane is ever going to lead us into an era of peace and good will on earth. But what the hell do I know? I’m just a tiny little factory clerk working in a warehouse stuck in an almost disused corner of a planet that has no real place in the universe at all metaphorically and mathematically, so nothing I say is going to change the world because no one will listen to me. Is this rock and roll? ---------------------------------------------------------------------- What you just read was copyright the respective author who should appear at the top of the page. Addendum just passes the file on to you: the reader. Should you wish to copy this file and give it to anyone else your more than welcome but please leave the file exactly how it is now. Thankyou. ----------------------------------------------------------------------