"But, Mr. Rodd! [pant pant] You must assume your individual position!"
"I don't want ONE position! I want ALL positions!"
-- The Fifth Element
That's what I was reminded of, standing at the ticket booth at the movie theater, and seeing the sign. Help Wanted - All Positions. I wonder if bauble-brained space cruise stewardess is among the positions available.
I am seeing frightening things. At the Wawa store (a convenience chain indigenous to this region), I saw these very fancy cards, like a square-world version of a techno party invitation, in a stack by the register. They looked like they were for the taking, so I took one. Outisde I examined it closer, and found it to be all about the joys of employment at Wawa. Dear god, I thought, what is going on?
Today Boober and I grabbed a between-laundry-loads meal at Wendy's. We stood in the very short yet interminably slow roped-off line, subjected to a TV-VCR machine dangling in the corner. Was it showing actual TV? Was it showing footage from whatever theme park this establishment was in leauge with this summer? Oh no, it was showing this thing, I don't even know what to call it. Ah, yes. Propaganda. It was showing this series of propaganda pieces featuring the smiling, laughing faces of people as they shoveled up fries, stuffed bags, and leaned engagingly out the drive-thru window.
Nobody EVER leans engagingly out the drive-thru window. Not with me in the car anyway.
This series was set to play, rewind, and play again, over and over. Sappy music of various types played while the same comic sans font message kept scrolling along the bottom about how fun and exciting it is to work at Wendy's.
I think it's time to develop servant robots. For we are never going to fill the void.
