Suite Revenge         April 1, 2013

            I was complaining to my shrink about how hard it is to avoid poverty these days.  “I am not giving you a discount on your therapy,” he barked after a few minutes. “You want a diet soda?”

            “No thanks,” I said, “That stuff just makes me want to eat, and drink more soda until I’m stupid.  Doc, why are taxes so high on ordinary Joes like me?!”

            “Look,” he said, “I paid a lot for my education.  Sure, I make a lot of money, but I earn it!  Would YOU like to listen to guys like you all day?  You pay high taxes because all you do is work.  Your expenses are just living costs.  I have to contribute heavily to my elected friends, socialize and be nice to them, and constantly explain why MY taxes need to be reduced.  Then I have to LISTEN and pretend to believe all their B.S.!  It’s really grim.  You want a beer, or some wine?”

            “Doc, that stuff just makes me stop caring.  And I listen to B.S. all day…from ‘bosses’, ‘experts’, and ‘news anchors’.  What’s to become of the middle class?  I’m struggling here!”

            “Too many people worry!  For Chrissake, you think we won’t take care of the middle class?!  Here!  Have some donuts.  You’ll feel better.”

            “Doc, I need sugar like I need a new car and a yard full of plastic toys!  I’ve got a better idea.  You can have the sugar, the soda, and the alcohol.  I’m quitting one of my part time jobs and going fishing.  Tell that to your elected friends.  I’m out of here!”

            “Communist!” he screamed as I closed the door.