When I was a kid, my
mom got me a t-shirt
with a big S on it.
***
Excited, I put it on,
ran outside and spent
the sum of the
afternoon pretending I
was the Samsung corp.
***
“One VCR coming up!”
I’d say, making a sale.
***
When the mailman came,
I pretended to type up
a service agreement.
***
“One moment, please”
I said,
tap, tap, tapping away at
my make-believe typewriter,
stamping it twice,
signing all three copies,
and handing him his.
***
“And if there
are any problems,
you can reach me
at this number,
day or night,” I said,
pointing to
the number six.
***
When my mom heard this
she came outside and
explained that, actually
the “S” on the t-shirt
stood for Superman, not Samsung.
***
“Ahh, Superman,” I said,
leaning back in my chair,
feet up on the desk.
“I think I may have to
loop my supervisor in on this.”
.
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