Birdies And Eagles

He was on top of his game. A real square shooter. Never touched alcohol. Didn’t smoke. Gave up those vices a few years back. Drank a lot of coffee.

And he played golf from sun up to sun down. Always trying to improve his game. Said it helped him in his attempt to become a better person. Birdies and eagles, birdies and eagles.

Used to be a big shot in Chicago. Was a corporate salesman. Sold paper products; made a fortune. Drove ’round town hopping from bar to bar. Impressing women with his slicked back black hair and his leathery tan. The guy wore necklaces and bracelets with his initials on em. Had season tickets to Bears games, sat inside away from the elements. Drinking whiskey and craft beers while the peasants suffered.

Then came the death of a salesman. Company politics did him in. The cut throats and the back stabbers got him in the end. The young turks were out to get him. And, they did. Ambition kills.

So, now he spends his days playing golf. Birdies and eagles. Birdies and eagles. Recovering from corporate greed. Always be closing.

Thank you David Mamet.

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