The newsman grabbed the backline and learned he’d just won a steak dinner! A reversal of order! He usually offered things like backstage passes to meet celebrity dog trainers. Voice on the phone said his succulent rib-eye would be served with exotic vegetables and California wine all because a survey his wife answered last week. He remembered because she’d been replying for him about what it takes to be an athlete in today’s world.

The whole thing ironic as he was 120 pounds heavier than when he’d valiantly guarded the soccer net for his Alma Mater.

Who were these people who thought you’d give up life-sand because a flank of cow was killed in your honor. It was like those corporate trainers who’d swore they were giving a gift with the little polo you could wear in lieu of your suit on fridays. The problem? It wasn’t just a benefit. You were more than frowned upon if you didn’t come thus particularly unsuited up. People didn’t serve. They manipulated.

He was on to the organizational strategists. His antenna aimed at their frequencies. He could jam a radar.

His manager came in, right mid-contemplation, clockwork. “So are you going to the Steak dinner at the Library this Saturday? We sent that questionaire so you could party! Three sponsors will be there.”

As it dawned how complex the webs went, he started about other plans his family had.

“No problem, said the boss. But if you want the extra vacation being graciously offered to those on that commercial you’re producing, you might look like you’re really enjoying the gorgonzola. Here’s that paper certificate!”

He looked at the unread invitation. He should have recognized who was doning the event.

The whole planet was disneyworld on meth.

He called in his dinner reservation.