Monday, February 10, 2014
Chic Uniforms
A new man
appeared at breakfast among the regulars of his
boarding house. Dressed in a garish military
uniform like a performer in a cheap operetta.
When he saw him, too, at his workplace, Oswood wondered.
Soon, a dozen more appeared there, just as absurd.
All employees directed to the auditorium. Newly-installed
Doctor Director General Hopswell, outfitted even
more bizarrely, told the regulars that they had surpassed
all goals: fewest complaints directed at any bureau.
"But, one cannot stand still in a moving stream!"
His epaulettes shook. All the epaulettes shook, so
perhaps it was a signal from him.
Oswood saw a lot of that in the next six months as
THE DOZEN was implemented. Twelve regulations
counterindicative of any decent work outcome.
Half the department took early retirement.
He stuck it out, knowing the uniforms would
eventually leave.
Indeed, the one at his boarding house announced the
program's final success at a patriotic celebration forced
on everyone there. Many tiny flags and songs of
sanctioned murder.
He sold his uniform to Oswood, the Twelfth Regulation
proscribing it for everyone remaining.
It actually became a good workplace again, another
department assuming its former duties.
The original employees, those left,traveled the entire
country for war reenactments.
Oswood wounded! Not really, but he always had to wear
bandages, both in rehearsals in the capital and performances
on the road.
When the new party came in years later, most thought the
performers would be dispersed to other departments, but
the uniform was merely redesigned by Casper of Monsieur
Andre’s. It featured breast pockets for silk handkerchiefs.
And in other ways as tasteful, though still military.
Labels: bureaucracy, Military, patriotic, Regulation, uniform
