a thirty third story...'majority rules'

 Shirley was a ‘go-getter’.

And more often than not, she got what she wanted.

Why?

Shirley knew how.

She could get along with people famously, and then manipulate them, also famously, to her own ends.

Shirely was a weapon.

~

Milos’ Cypriot grandmother always told him: ‘beware, a woman with brains’.  Milos took little notice – his grandmother was losing her marbles.  Besides, Milos’ mother and father always told him: ‘marry a woman with brains’ – and as far as he could tell his parents had the full set.

Moreover, Milos’ parents were both General Practitioners: they of all people had to be sane, and consequently worth listening to. 

Indeed, Milos’ listened to and obeyed his parents when they suggested, for his own future comfort and sanity, he work hard at his studies and try to become a General Practitioner just like them! 

This lead Milos to Medical School.

‘You’ll meet a woman with brains!’, warned his grandmother from underneath her shawl on hearing the news, ‘I hope I do!’, replied Milos.  And he did.

Her name was Shirley.

~

On first impressions, Milos was hugely impressed.  He had never met someone as beautiful as Shirley, and with such a grasp of Advanced Medical Ethics.  What he didn’t know was this:  Shirley largely saw boys as animate objects, fitted with integrated circuits enabling them to talk, she could play around with.  Had Milos known when she was little Shirley had torn the heads off all three of her Ken dolls, one after another (Barbie must have been mortified; Ken probably went to a better place), he might have proceeded with more caution.

Then again how many men, presented with outstanding female beauty, are able to exercise self restraint?

Not even Bill Clinton – one of the Greatest Men in the recent history of Planet Earth.

~

Anyhow..

Milos and Shirley started an affair. 

The affair went on for three months.

Then Shirley ended it.

‘We’re just not right for each other’, Shirley said – meaning, I’m bored now.  ‘But we are!’, pleaded Milos.  ‘No we’re not’, insisted Shirley.  ‘Why?’, blubbered Milos.  ‘We’re just not’, insisted Shirley again, and on they went until Milos’ integrated circuit couldn’t take any more.

~

Poor Milos!

When he first met Shirley he was a vigorous and popular young academic, he now became a slightly less vigorous, slightly less popular wretch.  In his second year at Medical School he dropped out altogether and, at the time of writing, is growing sunflowers to make margarine.

Here’s a thing:  Milos still day dreams about Shirley every morning – the day dream consists of Shirley in her bra and knickerlace, spreading margarine on her morning toast.

Love: one of the socially accepted forms of insanity.

You won’t find so much as a prescription at your GP!

~

While Milos was left to moon over his sunflowers, Shirley graduated from Medical School with distinction.  In her wake she left behind: Hal, once a rich and arrogant Freshman, now back at home working quietly on his father’s estate looking after his father’s regiment of Flamingos; Jordan, once the best and brashest Football player in college, now five stone overweight and turning beef patties in Roy Rogers; Greg, once the sharpest tool in the Physicians Drawer, now daily administering Mephedrone or Meow with an inane smile permanently super glued to his face; and last, but by no means least, Lavinia – once heterosexual, then bisexual, now confused.

Milos, Hal, Jordan, Greg and Lavinia: introducing Shirley’s toys!

~

Life was such a fun game for Shirley – and her beauty and intelligence put her in control of all the various outcomes, as well as presenting her with opportunity after opportunity she could take as she pleased.  Shirley was also lucky in the sense she was able to be objective when it came to the naturally occurring handicaps that lurk within the emotional composition of every single one of us: empathy, compassion and our old foe, Love!

For Shirley, love didn’t have to involve any suffering, nor did it have to involve any sacrifice, or compromise, unbridled desire, or delirious pleasure and so on. 

Boys and girls: Shirley was straight from the fridge!!

i.e. Cool

Then again, Shirley found with time her unparalleled ability to control her fortunes and feelings became something of a handicap in itself – she was so successful at life things began to lose their meaning:

As a Junior Doctor, if she deliberately showed a disinterest in her patients or poured scorn on her colleagues, on account of her looks the majority would normally give her the benefit of the doubt, and congratulate her.

It felt hollow.

Away from the surgery, if she deliberately made herself look ugly, on account of her mind the majority would keep her cocktail glass full to the brim and be fascinated by her.

The majority wanted Shirley to continue being successful and they made sure she was; but for Shirley, continued success meant continued Ennui.  And it was getting worse.

~

When Shirley made Senior Partner at the unprecedented age of twenty nine, she was inconsolable (at least behind closed doors).  When Shirley was awarded a Mastership by the American College of Physicians, she contemplated suicide.  When Shirley married Patrick Soon-Shiong, a self-made Master of Science, worth 7 billion dollars (pharmaceuticals), and one of the fifty richest men in the United States, she deliberately overdosed on tranquilisers, only to wake up at the same hour she always did and find it was time to go to work again!

At the clinic, following her attempt to take her own precocious life (one of her first and last recorded failures), Shirley’s patients said she was looking beautiful – every single one of them – and how with attributes like hers (as well as an exceedingly wealthy husband), they just knew there was more success to come!

‘We’ll do whatever we can to help’, said a nice, little old lady in the waiting room after their appointment was finished, at which juncture one of Shirley’s doctor colleagues strode over and clapped her on the shoulder: ‘We sure will, Shirley!’, he said smiling, Shirley thought mischievously, ‘we sure will!’.

~

But he meant every word!

Oh dear!

If Shirley could only have been growing sunflowers, farming Flamingos, frying processed meat, or doing animals for a living!!

But alas, no.

In succeeding years, Shirley won the Nobel Peace Prize, the International Women of Courage Award, the National Medal of Science, Cosmopolitan Woman of the Decade, Missus Virginia (three times), and finally the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian award bestowed by the Leader of the Free World. 

Sound great?

Or does it sound like a monotonous list of successes, all of them well-known, all of them with previous winners, all of them enshrined in an age old institution, one age old discipline after another, all of them de riguer?

Perhaps not.

But to Shirley it did, and not one to fail a second time, Shirley succeeded in ending her life shortly after her trip to the White House to have tea on the famous White House lawn, having received her Presidential Medal of Freedom.

I won’t divulge how she ended her life – it wasn’t very pleasant.

Never mind.

Whatever!

~

So for the moral of the story (I’m told there should be one), how about this:

Shirley’s gravestone carries this simple and eloquent epitaph:

The majority rules!

Take note, and don't be a smarty pants.