Monday, September 5, 2016

Our National Identity

The Rifleman observes a hotel lobby full of people eating breakfast.

There are 12 men of differing business persuasions, 2 women with their men, and 2 more women there solo. This room says a lot, even though few words are being spoken.

The women there with their men are speaking with their men. Their attention is turned to their respective men. Their conversation is with their men.

The two solo women are buried in their phones. They don't know it, but the Rifleman observes as they size up every man in the place when he walks in. When a man walks in with a woman by his side, the solo women size up the woman with the man, as if to say "What does she have that I don't?"

The solo women are thinner than the other two. Both of them are 35+. Neither wears a ring. They look longest at the men who are tall (over 5'10") and who do not have the beer belly. The Rifleman is one of those men. His wedding ring does not cast their glaze aside.

The men in the room... are a cross section of businessmen from the United States today. None are visibly under the age of 40. It is doubtful that a younger man is likely to have the gumption to hold down a job - particularly one where travel is involved.

But these men are not top of the chain. None are close. And they all have their tells. Most are Deltas, maybe one Gamma. Scratch that, there is one man's man... but he is 65. No longer an Alpha, but now perhaps content in a role of Beta or Sigma, depending on his personality. He sits alone and does not speak. He is the only man in the room who is not staring blankly at the television - other than the Rifleman, of course. 

Of the twelve men plus the Rifleman, four do not have the aforementioned beer belly. Two are over age 65 (including the sunset Alpha), and the other is about 45.

There is also a table with five adolescent males in the room. It's easy to pick out the pack leader - he's the biggest, oldest, and strongest. It's also easy to pick out the one who is dead last - his head is buried in the phone. The rest jockey for position instinctually. The true 2nd top guy is either the tall one, or the flashy one - it's hard to tell.

In an offensive situation, the Rifleman knows the sunset Alpha would probably be the hardest opponent. The rest would go easy.

In a defensive situation, this would be a nightmare. Having to protect 17 people in an open room would be problematic. Add to that the fact that the most likely source of help is way past his prime, and it would be a recipe for disaster.

The USA needs more Riflemen.


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