Social Darwinism is a short story by Jack Rusher, published here Friday, February 11, 2005. It is part of Stories.
The diary of Timothy Richards, a thirty-six year old teller at Sycamore Savings and Trust who traded a receding hairline for an advancing one.
March 3rd, 2004
Written in a tiny, careful script, one that suggests that the author didn’t want to take undue liberty with the paper.
I’ve been so depressed since Margaret left me. I can’t get a date to save my life. The last three set-ups were terrible; the girls were nice enough, but one look at me and they couldn’t wait to get home. I’ve decided to do something about myself, namely:
- Drink less beer.
- Join a gym.
- Skip lunch a few days a week.
- Finally send away for the treatment.
Pasted into the journal is an advertisement of the type found in the seedy, low-rent section at the back of any men’s magazine. It reads, “Tired of watching your hair go down the drain? We can help! Our treatment is the finest in the world, the very cutting edge of hair growth technology. For more information, send a SASE to Hair Now, POB 296745, Pueblo, CO.”
March 13th, 2004
It has been harder than expected to keep with the program at the gym, but I’ve managed to stay off the beer and my pills arrived today.
March 27th, 2004
The writing here is slightly larger, tinged with optimism.
Wow! It has only been two weeks, but I’ve already got new growth all over my scalp. This medicine is incredible! Also, I feel more energetic and I’ve lost a few pounds. Traci, over in the typing pool, told me today that I have “animal magnetism.”
There’s a little extra hair on my arms and chest, too, but the instructions told me to expect that.
April 7th, 2004
Barrisher promoted me yesterday. Johnson was disappointed that he wasn’t chosen — my left nut is more of a man than he is — and opened his mouth to “correct my figures” at the meeting today. I gave him a little talking-to in the bathroom, though, and he won’t make that mistake again. In other news, Traci’s hot in the cotton for me & I’m going to carve off a piece of her tonight.
May 16th, 2004
The script here grows huge and erratic, as if written in the snow using the author’s urine.
These pills are really something. The dark, shiny coat on my back and shoulders has grown out and I’m shaving a second time in the afternoon to keep down the stubble on my cheeks and forehead. Barrisher transferred me to the alpha-pack: Mergers & Acquisitions — I think the old grey-mane can feel my hot breath on the back of his neck. Traci told me yesterday that she is carrying the first of my brood & her friend Linda has picked up my scent.
May 29th, 2004
Had to bite Barrisher on the bridge of the nose today. He said he would, “have my job,” but he has it backwards, that dried-up limp old bastard.
June 14th, 2004
The guards broke down the door while I was skull-fucking Barrisher and gnawing on his femur. It took six of those weak little betas to drag me down from the desk, but now I’m in a cage. The worst part is that they’ve taken my medicine, even though I explained that it’s absolutely necessary to my health.
June 18th, 2004
Once more tiny and careful.
Dear God, what have I done?