I tolerate a lot. I woke up this morning and took out the trash before going to work. Outside my house I have a temporarily-home-removed-person who waits for my trash, to whom I wish a good morning. They are also known as members of the PRFTHBTAVOS community or “persons removed from their home because they are victims of society,” but that is somewhat inconvenient to say and is really only found in the official state sanctioned “updates to the social norms and education of oppressive sub behaviors in everyday life,” or UTTSNAEOPSBIEL messages which are not required, only encouraged. [But failure to listen to a designated number per week will result in a lower social credit score. (They make them every day, and the “encouraged” number to listen to per week is 7.)]
He rifled through it and left a trail of garbage strewn around my yard, but that didn’t bother me. I try to be as tolerant as possible to the less fortunate. I watched the person meander out of my yard into the yards of my neighbors doing similar work on their trash. It is so unfortunate that such people are forced to live in such poor circumstances, the only help they have is their state issued exemption cards, which only apply to private property of other people and only allow them to circumvent exactly every previously existing law of private property. Small recompense, I Agree, that is why I try to tolerate at every opportunity.
The trash truck takes my empty can, and the neighborhood community servant came to my door explaining that the trash in my yard was polluting the environment. Of course, how could I be so environmentally unconscious? Silly me. (I do try, but sometimes it all stacks up too much, I know, that is no excuse. I simply must do better.)
The community servant informed me that if I did not clean my yard, my social credit score would decline by 12 points, and I would be forced to move into a different neighborhood. I knew this already, but in fact, this helped me because when I inform my boss I am late for an Environmental reason, he must give me double pay for the time missed and can’t legally ask me any more questions about why I’m late. He will tolerate a lot and I respect that about him. (After all, my job as a doctor is not as important as maintaining the environment.)
So, I spend my morning cleaning my yard of the trash, putting it into a bag, ready to take out the next morning. Among the trash I find that the un-homed person has left a syringe in my yard which I punctured on my hand and contracted AIDS. I contacted the community social worker and informed this person of my new condition, and they gave me my approved ration of Aspirin to ease the pain and suggested I be more careful in the future when doing my civic duties. At first, I thought there must be some mistake, as Aspirin would not ultimately do anything for AIDS, but I remembered that the community social worker has access to all the newest medical information from the department of health that I, as only a doctor, do not have.
Astounded at the ever-evolving wonders of aspirin, I ventured to guess what else the department of health would discover next. I decided to take the rest of the day off and contemplate my new fate, and when evening came, I went to bed. Tomorrow I will try and take out the trash before work. (He gets here at the same time every day to take my empty bin). I’m so proud to live in this free society where I get to do so many things I love and I get to do my part helping the less fortunate, it makes AIDS worth it. The more I tolerate the better my life gets.
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