The Hard Life of a Fat Cat

by Olurotimi Osha
fat cat

From each according to his ability, and to each according to her need, because some folks have just way too much than necessary… 

Concerning those opulent hierophants that complain about “free” healthcare and funding universal higher education, but love those tax breaks because they “deserve” them: What exactly is the extent of their work?

Perhaps they tweet all day, and alternate with smartphone texts to their partner in law (spouse); toggle between emails and chat-rooms for office gossip, and circle back with the paramour. A frantic dash to the break room…more gossip; more texts to the Spanish chef, “What’s for dinner?”

More texts: to the partner, to convey what’s for dinner. Back to coffee and multitasking, and with a delicate balancing act: juggling a warm coffee mug in one hand and pressing the nondescript buttons on the microwave with the other…open the microwave, to retrieve the croissant and the bagel. Where’s the spread?

More typing: on Lotus Notes to plan another hectic day for tomorrow…toggle back to Microsoft Word to complete a paragraph, announcing another day’s agenda accomplished. Another email to the Assistant to make sure she’s not being lazy and just chatting all day; must set an example and keep her nose to the grindstone, otherwise the millennial will get beached – can’t be wasting company assets and valuable time on trite affairs.

Interruption: It’s the smartphone text – the nanny picked up the kids. Tell nanny to say “hi” to the kids. Dutifully, nanny says “hi” to the kids. Insouciantly, she receives the kids’ “hi” back from nanny, with a private smirk to herself. Turn off the lights to the office, after powering off the notebook. Press the buttons to the elevator – more nondescript buttons, to take you down to the escalator, leading to the garage. Then sashay along the cloister, where the chauffeur backs up to you, so you can pull the door handle to get in. Settle into the leather seats, check a trade confirmation from your broker. Collect the crystal, stemless, dainty, robust glass of Chardonnay.

More skill: retrieving the carminative from the Louis Vuitton handbag. Finally, with a brief reprieve to free those hands from the control of the phone, you reward yourself with a swig of the Chardonnay, after you pop the pills with a stroke of the hand into that aperture devoted to the sultry, the mundane and prandial activities. Pass over the peculiar snifter to the Chauffeur, who obediently sets it in the customized holder, in the center.

More work: You muse over the events of the day, and how those fingers hurt from working all day. You need a massage. Multitask with both hands, press the buttons to the smartphone, reaching out to the paramour – you’re on your way…and in a show of quintessential skill, twist the wrist with a swift lift, to glance at the Cartier. Oh, what a hectic day…

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