Smooth Operator

[smooth op-hu-rey-ter]: The song is about a fashionable man who lives a jet-set lifestyle. He’s very popular with the ladies, and breaks a lot of hearts in his travels. With the lyrics, “Across the north and south, to Key Largo, love for sale,” it’s implied that the women he uses also supply his wealth. It’s also clear that he does not return the affections of these women, as Sade sings near the end, “His heart is cold.”

 

The House That God Has Forgotten Part 20: The Blue Wall

The snow and ice has melted and now is replaced by cold rain and cloudy skies. We like beggars look out the few windows at The House That God Has Forgotten and have a sigh in our breath when the sun appears in the middle of the day.

“We will be missing it today” everyone says in a chorus that can be heard with a united voice like a gospel choir.

“Oh lord help me, for I am in The House That God Has Forgotten”.

The air is silent at The House That God Has Forgotten. No good stories, no exciting moves that has made everyone jump off their feet in rage or irritation. Like the sky that has fallen above us, we are grey as well, just walking through the motions and trying not to get the gravel that was laid out during the forgotten snow and ice from fastening to the bottom of our shoes.

What still goes on in The House That God Has Forgotten and that will always happens the big blue wall .

If you have ever watched enough police television shows or movies you have seen it in action. The art of covering ones’ ass when something that has happened is not always in the lines with the job. it can be the little things, or the big, but we are all guilty of it.

It is the little things that are unspoken, like giving one of those extra cigarettes that another guy left behind to an otherwise pain in the ass inmate to shut up.

We all know it is against the rules, but we still do it and it is an unspoken code that never dares to be open, never dares to be broken.

It is that extra potato at dinner time to the guy that is nice and never gives them problems for the time of his stay.

“He is cool, let him have it.” The staff says to each other while the hand out cardboard trays of food while pushing airline carts up and down the corridors.

It is that extra cigarette the guy gets while cleaning out the promenade cells on Tuesdays and Fridays.

It is the silent fear that is in the back of everyone minds when the jail is finally full and two people will be sharing a room.

“How is this going to work out?”

No one says anything, but that blue wall lives strong in our minds.

Those are the little fences. The short little walls that we can jump over. Who says anything about these things?

If you break the barrier on these little things, you will have no friends, you will be an outcast and no one would ever want to work with you again.

Am I saying that I would personally be the one to go and say something about this to my boss in The House That God Has Forgotten?

Hell no. Never. I am no idiot.

There is this guy that is a real pain in the ass. He yells and screams and destroys everything that comes in his path.

His television was his first victim. Lying there on the floor and in a million pieces. Then when he moved into the next room he destroyed his mattress.  He yells and screams, he is destroying the peace and quiet you have finally gotten after handing down the last guy to another floor,

You know, that guy… the one that was begging to leave his cell all the time and babbling a ton of madness. He was a bad boy one day, and he got moved away. He would call from morning to night and was just “weird” someone you had to watch your back around, he was an attack waiting to happen.

What could you do but not protect yourself?

Then there was the guy with the mattress… he would throw his excrement around in his room.

“Not too bad, just in the room, not as us or anything” they would tell the people that would listen.

You see, these people were veterans of the world of bodily functions. They knew the people that came in to clean the stuff on a first name basis.

The guy that we all know that I am talking about now is a montage of what we see everyday. People losing there minds. The people that while I am working the promenade do not look forward to.

I think with a sigh in my breath.

“This guy is going to make me crazy today in The House That God Has Forgotten” he is going to ask me about stupid things, and beg me to come out.

This is the guy who is going to yell at me for 30 minutes and tell me how evil I am. His voice is already raw from the screaming he has done for the last two days.

Everyone wants to get rid of him. I do. The people that watch him hammer on the walls and destroy things. The people that have to talk down him to get his to stop doing these things.

They are hopeless. They are the impossible ones to deal with. They are the trades I make to get that promenade over.

“Ok I will take him in the morning AGIAN, but this time you are going up to get him and bring him down”

I don’t have the energy after 30 minutes of being yelled at to negotiate to get him to ride down an elevator 6 floors.

He is the guy one day where all of the sudden they press to come into the door and all of the sudden they go in there. A lot of people all of the sudden.

“This is not normal.” you think to yourself as you look and see this right before your eyes, they never go in like this,

An alarm goes. They have control. Everything works like a symphony. They drag him out of the room and carry him down to the elevator and the floors below.

There is no discussion. There is no alarm report. There is nothing but silence and the big blue wall that is built like the one in Berlin of years ago. Only those four or five people that were there will ever know the tale to be told.

We will never know because it is a secret world that every floor has. The art of moving your trouble to another floor.

This guys voice was too high and he threw an attitude at me.

He ends up on the penthouse on the top floor, or the bottom.

This guy did this, but we only saw it.

This is what happens. The little blue walls that exist between us at The House That God Has Forgotten.

The world “whistleblower” never comes to our mind because the price to pay is too hard. We all can stand or sit by and watch it happen, but the blue wall is too high or too strong to break through it.

I met a whistleblower the other day. Good for you. You have the courage to say something that none of us ever do.

I am sorry though, that wall goes even higher than the one that surrounded the city of Berlin.

Your bosses (note not leaders), they have theirs and it is much higher than the one you are trying to break through.

 

 

 

 

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