Some Would Say…

Some go bowling, some meet over cards or kick back and watch TV. Mondays are also a key weekday on my calendar if I have the free evening for it.

Today was Monday, and I had off. Then suddenly I didn’t. Again someone called in sick and my supervisor of many years – who would never call me if he’d had an alternative, and we both know that – called me. Begged me to say yes, and spring for my co-worker’s evening shift. I said no. He had no one else. I cannot let him down, as he is not only my chief but a dear friend as well. So I hung up and let my Monday evening main contact know, "I have to cancel. Work called."

I arrived at our office, got all my keys, stuff I needed for my tour, and in walked my super, and seeing me came over to thank me.

I told him, "Actually you know what Mondays are for me, you know that."

"Tell me," said.

"Well," I replied, my hand on his arm and my eyes on his, "I could be spending my Mondays the way I generally do since over two and a half years now – I meet up with friends and we take a walk. A WALK. Aaand, I generally, as I would have this evening, hold a public talk and then we all take that Walk. And all the time during this, during my talk – notwithstanding the good sound system – and all during that Walk – under significantly present riot-police escort for our safety and to secure our right to free assembly and free speech – I’d find myself with those I’m walking with: jeered and screamed at by the organized and paid “Anti”fa mob of criminals and their pants-wetting supporters (sent there by their professors or teachers or parents for all I know), whistles or foghorns blowing and drums beating, spat upon and screechingly called “Nazi” and told to “get the fuck out”, pelted by the occasional flying egg or water balloon, having free passage on the street blocked although we’re legally registered. And bearing with this in order to assert our right to hold speeches with logic and content and reality-check – all going against the current of cowardly conformity and complacency."

"You mean, you demonstrate?" he asked.

I continued without remarking on that, "And now I have to give all that up on a Monday evening, after pulling a solid week of late shift, so I can do one more such late shift – and listen to a string of old women who will be ‘voting’ Merkel anyway next month. You see what I mean…"

"Well," he grinned, "Some would say, you got the better deal in the bargain."

"Yes," I replied, with a very sad resignation in my ironic smile back, "some would say…"