The game of Red Rover is an awful lot like the ole' promotion game. In case you forgot, which I highly doubt, Red Rover is the game where two lines of people standing opposite one another hold hands, forming two chains. One person from each team takes turn running directly at the opposite chain in order to physically break through it. It's dangerous. The odds are against you. And the chain will stop at nothing (NOTHING!) to clothesline you faster than you can say Uncle! and also holy shitballs. So there you are, lying on your back. Knocked out cold and covered in dirt. Or...by some miracle of heaven...you break the chain! You toe your little toes into the land of milk and honey! A land of actual salaries! Perky assistants! And sweet mini-fridges!
In my observance, these exact same savage childhood tournaments take place in the office. We run like little blind moles at the tightly linked arms of our company higher-ups, wielding mechanical pencils, protractors and upper-left-hand-drawer-stale Power Bars. We run at our supervisors from noble cubicles with powerpoint presentations documenting our yearly contributions, or we take the high road by offering up sexual favors, such as a blow job or anal sex, in exchange for getting a promotion. It's an uphill battle. And there are too many candidates running at the chain to give anyone good odds. But while others get clotheslined faster than an amateur wrestler, a few of us break through their kid-gloved, 2nd homeowning, portfolio-holding hands and get to the other side. It may not turn out to be milk and honey, and it may turn out be merely more hard work, more responsibility and less time for Sudoku. But such is life. And you, by God, you, can say you made it to Wally World.
