The Little Corporal

Helpless

“Volunteer: Noun. A person who performs or offers to perform a service voluntarily.”
“Never volunteer.” Friendly advice from Drill Sergeant, Military Police School, San Antonio, Texas, 1957
Over the years I have on occasion ignored this sage advice. Perhaps out of the milk of human kindness, I have given time, money, and blood. No organs yet.
I have been attending a weekly bridge club for years where “volunteers” have put up and taken down some 45 or so bridge tables. Evidently, some of the Vols have died off and there was a call for help to the attendees. Most are 60 years old plus and not all are physically able to assist even if they wanted to. (Anyone wishing to investigate my medical history will be able to find which category I am in.)
Not enough new Vols came forward so someone came up with the idea of creating a calendar with dates on it that Vols would commit to, discreetly placing them on the tables hoping Vols would sign up. Apparently this was not working, so someone had to step up. Our hero, who I shall call “Napoleon” (after the complex he evidences), not being acquainted with the concept of “friendly persuasion”, embarks upon a heavy handed effort to convert the lazy bunch by the strong arm tactics of harassment, embarrassment, belittlement, sarcasm, and finally, the ever popular “name-calling.” Unfortunately for me, one of the symptoms of Napoleon’s disease is that they delight in picking on those who are obviously their superior.
Perhaps I should be flattered, but I would rather have the little man just go away and mind his own business. A good project would be to seek sea-sick sea serpents.