The Loyalty Meter

 

So this guy comes to my door.

He says he's the meter reader

and wants to come in to read

the meter.

"What meter?" I asked him.

"There's no meters in here."

"Sure there is" he says politely.

I can tell he's just passed some kind

of certification course in 

Customer Service.

"It's right next to the kitchen sink."

He goes into the kitchen and by golly

if there isn't a little meter next to the

sink.

I never noticed it before.

It's got a couple of dials on it

and numerals and even a little

red light that's blinking.

"Oh, oh" says the guy.

"This is bad."

"What's bad?" I ask him.

Then I ask: "Hey, just what does

this meter measure, anyway?"

"It's a loyalty meter" he says.

"And yours is not reading so good."

"Whaddya mean loyalty meter?" 

I ask him. "Never heard of such rubbish!"

"It measures your loyalty to the 

current administration." 

I just glared at him;

the way my mother used to

glare at me when I was misbehaving

as a boy.

"Your loyalty reading is way low"

he says, ignoring my glare.

 "I'm going to have to fine

you fifty-five dollars. Payable

by debit or credit card."

We tussled a bit, but I finally

threw him out the front door.

"I'll be back!" he yelled as he shook his fist.

But I never saw him again.

Instead I got a bill in the mail

for fifty-five dollars.

Which I tore up and threw away.

Another one came the next week.

This one included a key chain with

a red vinyl sticker that read 

"Your continued loyalty is appreciated."

I threw the whole shebang away.

Then I got a UPS package.

With the same bill, and a 

set of rare 1943 steel pennies.

Now how did they know I was

a numismatist?

I was sorely tempted to keep the

steelies --

but I dropped them,

one by one,

off of the Washington Avenue Bridge,

as the sun traveled a horizontal line

from left to right.

The very next day a man brought me

a pony. 

To keep.

If I would just be loyal.

I'd always wanted a pony.

And this one came with a red leather

saddle and silver stirrups.

Okay, okay, I told the man.

I give up -- I'll be loyal.

"It's not quite that easy" 

the man said with a leer.

"You have to prove your loyalty

by shooting the pony."

And he gave me a gun. 

I fired it once.

But not at the pony.