Beware, for there be harsh satire here

I was actually called "The Man" over the weekend, because I'm white, and work in a bank. This was not said in a playful, jovial tone, but in an accusatorial town. (That part is altogether true. Everything which follows is false.) I responded with laughter, peals upon peals of laughter. Did I laugh because it‘s ridiculous to think that I am "The Man", part of a faceless cabal through which all discrimination is carried out? No. I laughed because I mustn't allow him to know how deeply the conspiracy runs

For instance, I keep a daily journal. Here is my entry from Friday.

7:45 am: Alarm goes off. Damn Mexicans.

9:00 am: Violently shove minority out of the way of the bank entrance. Mustn't be late!

9:20 am: After telling sexist and derogatory jokes with my co-worker, I get down to business.

9:40 am: Run a macro designed to decline loans to any applicant with an ethnic last name, or feminine first name; unless they sound hot and are in my age range.

10:00 am: Take a coffee break. On the way out to a smoke break, someone asks me a question which is well within my job description. I derisively "pfft" and continue on undaunted. What am I, their mommy?

11:30 am: Take lunch at Vic’s, the Filet minion and three martini special. Blow off work for another 45 minutes. My boss will understand. We're both in the club.

1:15 pm: On the way back to work, I strike an old woman with my car while weaving between lanes. As she rolls over the hood, I think to myself, "Eh, she's probably on Social security and medicare. I just saved tax payer money."

1:25 pm: After giving the secret handshake to the police officer who pulled me over for vehicular manslaughter, I pull into work without incident.

1:26 pm: Violently shove the same ethnic minority out of the way of the doorway. I swear, it's like he's been lying there all morning, lazily bleeding from his ear. I wish he would just get a job.

1:45 pm: Called the federal-reserve to get the interest rates raised. We have a number of wealthy clients coming in today to open CDs.

3:00 pm: Call the federal-reserve to get the interest rate lowered. We'll be getting a number of wealthy clients coming in later today to get loans.

3:30 pm: Just fired a man. Out of a cannon. Just kidding. It was a woman.

4:00 pm: Take off work early. Ran into the boss on the way out. Both of us urge the man on the ground to get a job. We both get into our seperate cars, and head to the same location; after all, why conserve gas, when ExxonMobile and Shell are part of the same conspiracy. Also, cause my BMW handles so nice.

4:15 pm: Upon entering the elks club, we give the secret handshake to Ernie, the elevator operator to take us to the unmarked 13th floor, so that we can plan the invasion of Iran.

And that was my day!

Now that I think about it, I might have killed that man by the front door. Oh well, hopefully the garbage man will pick him up. I only hope they are teamsters, and know the drill.