parsing Jimmy

I've lately started a collection of notices posted by Jimmy, the front desk manager in my building. They are usually short, apparently simple messages, but like a great haiku, they reveal untold layers of meaning as you ponder them more deeply. Most of these layers seem to concern what a bunch of clueless slobs we residents are. For example, here is today's announcement concerning bagels:

SUNDAY BREAKFAST AT PLYMOUTH

BREAKFAST WILL BE SERVED AT THE PLYMOUTH ON SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 4TH AT 10:30 AM. THERE WILL BE COFFEE, BAGELS AND CREAM CHEESE. ALL FELLOWS ARE INVITED. EACH PERSON WILL SERVE HIMSELF. THIS BREAKFAST IS BEING PURCHASED FROM EISENSTEIN'S. ALL OF YOU FELLOWS COME AND ENJOY.

PROVIDED BY NORMAN LITZ/LINCOLN HALL

The all-caps is a trademark of Jimmy's style; it seems to proclaim, "I'M ONLY GOING TO SAY THIS ONCE. THEN I'M GOING TO STICK ONE ON EVERY DOOR IN THE BUILDING." The key line, to me, is the one right in the center: "EACH PERSON WILL SERVE HIMSELF". Is this hearkening back to a time when the Plymouth may have had a wait staff and white tablecloths? Does he worry that we might all just sit there, staring at all that coffee, those bagels, that cream cheese, wondering who will come to serve us? Or might the whole gathering descend into chaos, rioting, and violence as fellows try to choose bagels for one another?

Maybe I am stretching when I sense a tinge of contempt in that imperative "ALL OF YOU COME AND ENJOY." The miracle of these things, though, is that you can find so many different meanings in them. I haven't even touched on the enigmatic transformation of Einstein Bros. into "EISENSTEIN'S". For some mysteries, each reader may be best advised to SERVE HIMSELF.

Here is another recent announcement:

ELECTRICAL POWER

WHEN YOU USE THE A/C, PLEASE MAKE SURE THAT YOUR WINDOWS ARE CLOSED. IF THE WINDOWS ARE KEPT OPENED, WHEN YOU USE THE A/C, THIS WILL CAUSE THE ELECTRICAL BILL TO BE TOO HIGH. PLEASE, WHEN YOU USE YOU'RE A/C, BE SURE THAT ALL OF YOUR WINDOWS ARE CLOSED.

Artists in all forms have recognized the power of repetition, but few can match the sense of sheer desperation conveyed in these three sentences. The quiet resolve of the first line becomes a little breathless in the second, culminating in that climactic "PLEASE," and the final invocation. Again, there is a mysterious "typo" which seems only to heighten the power of that last, plaintive phrase.