In spite of raking in millions each month like a well-oiled money vacuum, our neighborhood has entered the rare and prestigious phase of Advanced Greed Disorder. At the helm is a man so fantastically wealthy that even his shadow trembles under the weight of his bank account. But alas, rich is never quite rich enough, is it? He’s surrounded himself with a strategic mix of yes-men and helium balloons disguised as executives—big on volume, low on substance.
The latest efficiency? Starving the residents. Restaurants now open for exactly two hours a day—just enough time for the scent of food to waft by before the doors slam shut. And Mondays? Don’t even think about it. Holidays? Laughable. Dinner service? Apparently outlawed. You may feast only at brunch—if your horoscope permits.
To further the noble mission of profit-chasing, green fees have soared into the realm of absurdist theatre. We now pay to enter our own homes, like some gated existential experiment. Meanwhile, His Greedship commands his empire from a distant state, safely shielded from the pitchforks and passive-aggressive suggestion box comments.
Management’s tactic? Bedazzle potential buyers with brochures so glossy they could blind a skeptic. Every paragraph a rainbow of fiction, every smiling resident a trained actor. It's like Willy Wonka meets suburban real estate, minus the charm.
The restaurant managers? A tragic breed. They flinch at the mere whisper of “onion ring,” as though it were a forbidden incantation. Want to swap a fry for a ring? You may as well request a unicorn steak. “We cannot possibly alter the sacred side item,” they whisper, trembling. “The cosmos would implode.”
How terribly sad. True, but sad.
1 comment:
How sad and wrong that you must pay for a service or amenity that you can't and won't use. That is just wrong. Perhaps a boycott?? A strike?? Start up a petition!!
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