The year was 1968. The wind knocked at the old man Jenkins’s window; no one was around. The man was 76 years old; a fragile old man that hadn’t bothered to step out the house to see the light of day in years.
He had no relatives and his last wife has been deceased for years. This old man was sickly and had been battling cancer for years on in. He cared nothing for his life, and often times he would sit in his old rocking hair and drink himself into a coma hoping he would never wake up.
One morning, after old man Jenkins took his usual long bath, he came across a television commercial. One he had never seen before, and they were selling some kind of pills released from the country of Bangladesh that had been the culprit of numerous deaths among its citizen’s that had cancerous symptoms.
The television add was selling the last of these vitamin’s to anyone that wish to posses a bottle for a messily payment of $14.95. A faint whimper filled his ears at that point. “Jenkins” a voice called, and Jenkins knew it was his wife he was imagining. He quickly snapped back to continue viewing the commercial.
At the end of the commercial, there was a number that was provided. Without any hesitance, the old man reached for the phone to place in his order. “We will have your order to you within a week”. The marketer tells old man Jenkins.
The following week, old man Jenkins’ shipment came in. The man was filled with excitement to take the pills and end his hellish life he so wished to leave to be back with his wife he use to spend much of his time with. He opened the box and took out the green and white bottle with black paper and sat it on the desk his wife use to do work.
The man began to shake. He knew that its effects must have been working, so he grabbed himself a seat in his old rocking chair waiting to see his old wife again. He could practically begin to smell the perfume his wife once wore.
A week had gone by and the old man still sat there, alive as ever. Something must be wrong, the old man thought, but little did he know that the patients in Bangladesh that took the pill had only taken one a time. Old man Jenkins felt bamboozled and hood winked because none of that was said in the commercial or on the bottle.
Old man Jenkins was more depressed than ever and he ended up sitting there, in his rocking chair for all of eternity; never once even blinking. He knew he would never see his wife again. The old man knew that although it wasn’t the sales people plan to keep him alive forever, he still felt like it was an unethical sale.