Politics

            The governor started his day off just as he usually did. He managed to get through traffic without shouting at anyone or making any other such bad PR move, made it to work on time, complemented his secretary’s new ear rings (she had new ones every week), wondered if he was paying his secretary too much or if her priorities were just screwy, sat at his desk, and turned on the local news.

            Something happened in his mind during an Oxyclean commercial, though. It occurred to the governor that no one in this building was doing anyone any good.  He spent most of his time in his plush, executive leather chair that bosses are supposed to have, and filled out paper work.  The paperwork rarely actually served any purpose other than to satisfy the need for middle men and obvious approval of things in a beaurocracy, but it continued to pile up on his desk, and reeked of obligation.  His secretary served as a wall of interference for any caller or visitor the mayor happened to have, rendering both of their jobs rather irrelevant (what is the point of the guard that oversees the button that does nothing?). Everyone else in this office was supposedly hired for the public good, yet would up doing exactly what the governor and his secretary did: nothing of consequence.

            Everyone here received a paycheck, though.  Citizens paid them to do something, though the governor couldn’t think of exactly what it was they would want him to do.  He knew how to campaign, but everyone knew that the campaign statements don’t bleed into actual job responsibilities. If anyone had taken a class on the mechanics of government when they were in school, they should know as much.  Did they expect more? Where they disappointed, and should he care if they were? He had been elected three consecutive times, after all. That should count for something. 

            This was all getting quite ridiculous, though, even in the eyes of the benefactor.  How long could such facades hold any substance?  He went around, strutting to keep up appearances and lying to people.  They all swallowed the lies so readily, though.  Suppose he decided to quit and get out of the business, what then? Someone else would fill his seat, doing exactly the same thing and maybe not feeling a bit of remorse.

            “Good Lord, I hate politics.” The governor said with a sigh as he put his head in his hands.