“If you are trying to pierce a needle through someone’s eye, you really need them to look away first.”

Story Art — The Man On The Milk Crate

He didn’t know why he was here. This place was for gullible morons. A bunch of nitwits. Not educated people like him. He was a qualified Engineer, high enough up the hierarchy, with people who reported to him. Everyone here was likely a dropkick. But he had thrown himself past the point of no return now. And it made him uneasy.

He had decided he was not going to make eye contact with anyone. It was best, he thought, to pass by unnoticed. He didn’t want someone to catch him, and think he is also like these losers. He had worked hard to build a reputation for himself, and professionals like him don’t attend these things. Only unemployed, bottom of the rung kind of people do.

He tugged at the collar of his polo shirt. There was this ickiness running all over his body. He felt like he needed another shower.

Without a shadow of a doubt, this evening was going to be full of hard-sell, manipulative, sales tactics to get him to join a bullshit Pyramid Scheme. It was the beginning of those horror stories you hear of guys in power suits standing in front of a room of low-IQ idiots, coercing them into peddling garbage to other lower-IQ idiots down the chain. And the only people that make money were the guys in the power suits. Everyone else got hope flavoured Chuppa Chups and were talked into keeping on sucking.

It wasn’t like he was tricked, or forced to be here. They couldn’t have made it any clearer that this was going to be one of those nights at the time they invited him.

It was all over those hard sell letters he received in the mail. The long form sales pages on his computer that went on and on, filled with highlighted text, big bold words, and random underlines.

“How would your life change if you could make money while you sleep?”

Was the mantra and the promise that was repeated enough times that it reeled him in. It was engraved into his skull. Even as he said it to himself just now, weirdly enough, he wanted to know the answer.

He knew all this. But he was still here. So what? He was curious. At least he wasn’t as gullible as the rest of these assholes. Look at them. Shy, nervous, sweaty looking characters who probably had no other option or qualifications. This is all they had going for them.

Meh.

He’d just leave as soon as his suspicions were proven right. It’s not as if people will think less of him if he told them this was for his own learning. People go places to learn. People skateboard down handrails for god’s sake. Come on.

“Can I have your attention everyone!”

His internal monologue was suddenly broken by this man standing on a milk crate yelling to the crowd.

“Sorry all, I really apologise, this is quite embarrassing. But the venue for tonight’s seminar has been double-booked. I understand this is unacceptable, and I deeply apologise. But we’ve only just found out,” the man paused.

“To make up for it though, I’ve made amends and arranged a first-class ferry trip with dinner and drinks to take you all to our new location in style.”

The man on the milk crate looked down at his feet. And then in his most sombre heartfelt tone said, “this is our way of saying sorry.”

His shield lowered a little.

The thoughts of self-hatred, and his escalating levels of uneasiness, were curbed for a moment.

Maybe he had misjudged these guys?

He always did this though. He had a habit of making snap judgments of people to then realise he was wrong. In fact, he was rarely every right. But it’s easier to put people down than to put yourself in no man’s land to try to get to know them. And risk not being liked by them.

The man on the milk crate seemed genuine, and what he had arranged for everyone here seemed an awfully nice gesture. It is not like anyone had paid them anything. They could have just cancelled. Instead everyone here was now going to experience a first class ferry trip. Probably for the first and last time.

First class!

It even brought a smile to his face. And like sunlight that had broken through gloomy clouds, it did the same for the rest of the crowd.

Everyone was now cruising on the river in style, seated in their spacious temperature-controlled leather grain seats. With drinks of their choice on offer, and empowering music playing through the speakers. Eye of the tiger seemed to be the go-to choice.

That man on the milk crate then filled their time on the trip by taking to stage and telling everyone about his journey since signing up for the program.

It was a great speech, he thought. What stood out for him was the milk crate man’s integrity.

He opened by telling everyone the weaknesses of the program. He was honest instead of sweeping the negatives under the rug, and feeding everyone the sugar coated version. That was respectable. Because no one told the truth nowadays. The world was full of conniving conmen, money hungry assholes that’ll do anything to pull one on someone else. In this world, you always had to have your guard up. But this milk crate man’s attitude was like a breath of fresh air.

And he could tell everyone really started to like him.

The milk crate man then showed them his $44,000 commission cheque he received last month, and how easy it was now that he had a team under him. The cliche of making money while you sleep was actually his life.

This guy clearly had no education, wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. Yet he had made it. How?

It had to be this system, this program, there was no other way this was possible. And if he could do this, imagine me as an educated smart Engineer, imagine what I could do.

It was easy for him to pretend to be happy for other people’s success on the outside, but it clawed at his insides. He found himself getting really agitated. The jealousy inside him raged. It pissed him off that he hadn’t done more with his life. He had so much potential, but like a sharp knife that has only ever been used to cut bananas. Yet is capable of cutting through metal. All his potential was a waste.

Pictures of famous people started flashing up on the screen. But by now he was already creating time in his schedule and working on the story he would tell his wife about why he was joining this. She would think he was crazy. That he had been brainwashed by some cult organisation. No doubt. But surely this can be no setup, no dangle of the carrot in front of his eyes, with all these credible people a part of this program.

He’d show her how much better off they could be.

Finally, they passed around the microphone to hear everyone’s ambitions. He shared his with real passion. And like everyone else had done before him, he made a commitment to the room that he was going to take some serious action starting today. He wrote

“Today, I am going to change my life”

on a sticker and stuck it to his chest.

The familiar three chords from the start of Eye of the Tiger blared through the speakers. Everyone in the room applauded. That warm feeling of hope washed over him. And the giddy little-boy excitement returned that he hadn’t felt in ages.

The 2 hour ferry ride felt like 2 minutes. And before they got off, virtually everyone had signed up and had the handwritten sticker on their chest.

The milk crate man cancelled the seminar to which they were headed, everyone preferred to spend time asking questions than getting more information which they didn’t need.

The next day, as he sat in his cubicle at his engineering workplace where the tapping sound of a keyboard was the only indication that the people around him were still alive. He couldn’t see it but that man on the milk crate was now standing on that same milk crate. But this time he was in front of a different crowd of people in a different location.

Standing on that milk crate, in his loud but sombre voice, he again apologised that there was a booking issue and the seminar had to be relocated. And again, he told everyone that he had organised a first-class ferry to take them there.

The masses, as had happened yesterday, immediately went from a grumpy miserable bunch with frowns plastered across their faces, to smiles as wide as their mouths could possibly stretch.

The milk crate man also had a smile. A sinister smile though.

He knew that in order to paint the brightest picture inside someone’s head, it must start off as grim as possible. And if you are trying to pierce a needle through someone’s eye, you really need them to look away first.

He kept his smile to himself, because he had a role to play. A role he had played many times before, and one he was capable of executing to perfection.

That role didn’t require a smile.

Bring someone’s guard up first, and then bring it down, and you will have it at its lowest.

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