Do we pretend to be the adults we think we want to be until one day we wake up and realize we are that person?
Excuse me for being so convoluted in such an annoying way, but I’ve really been wondering that lately.
I’m wondering if and when that moment is going to happen. Realistically speaking, I woke up today and knew, without a doubt, I am not there yet. The man next to me has no last name (until he tells me), I am cold, unemployed, and my refrigerator solely consists of a half loaf of bread, a pot with unsauced spaghetti, and a few cans of Natural Light.
Yes, I have been unemployed for almost a month and have just about zero funds left. I’m at the unemployed level where I peruse Craigslist for inspiration into new ways to make a couple dollars.
I lost my job at the department store I worked for because they had me working on “Black Friday.” I put that in quotes because my shift began at 10pm on Thanksgiving. It was a 10pm-6AM shift. While being utter horseshit, and despite my best abilities, I could not get out of that shift.
For the “Friendsgiving Thanksgiving” party I went to, everyone brought a dish they wanted to share. My culinary limits are severely lacking, as is my bank account, so I brought Popov vodka infused Jell-O in a glass baking dish and served it with a spoon.
It doesn’t matter what your tolerance is, vodka Jell-O will fuck you up. I showed up to work accidentally wasted and was escorted out by security soon after. Job terminated.
When I was young, I remember my mother yelling at me to tie my shoes. I had a habit of putting them on, not tying them, and running out the door. Too excited to take on the world, I simply couldn’t be bothered. And she would nag and nag and yell and yell, always “And tie your shoes!” to bookend whatever else she was saying to me as I ran far and away as fast as my little legs would take me. I could go for miles before stopping to bend down and tie.
Now, if I put on a pair of shoes without tying them, I don’t make it more than three steps without completely falling on my face.
Take this anecdote for whatever you want, it won’t change my situation.
Last night, I met a guy who was a little annoying, a little attractive, and ultimately not my type. He pestered me, asked me questions, suggested I smile, and was an all around ass.
“What are you doing for Christmas?” he asked, assuming Christmas is the holiday I celebrate. A head so far up his own ass he couldn’t imagine that people don’t celebrate his holiday.
I looked at him, dead eyed, and said, “I don’t do anything, both my parents are dead and I’m an only child.” None of this is true, I just wanted him to be scared off.
Without even a hesitation, he said, “Well that makes the holidays easy.” He laughed to himself, clinked his bottle on mine, and then took a sip. He fucking cheers-ed me without my consent.
A total asshole. Zero compassion. A pre-emptive celebrator.
I walked away from him without saying a word and spent the next thirty minutes thinking about it. I got some other dude to buy me another drink and continued thinking for another ten. How was his comeback so fast? What kind of a fucker says that to someone? What’s wrong with him? But really, what’s wrong with me for creating that scenario? I’m not as funny as I think I am, right? But I have to be, my humor is what pulls me forward. Maybe this guy figured something out that I haven’t yet. Maybe he has such a terrible family that the idea of being alone on the holidays is a dream-come-true. What could be his story? Who gave him all the answers?
I looked to the bar and saw him order another drink. Eyeing him up and down, I noticed he was wearing boots. They were untied. He got his drink, turned around, and walked across the room to a group of friends sitting at a table. He didn’t stumble once.
Now he’s in my bed, hogging the blanket, breathing with his mouth open. He’s got nice teeth.
I’ll check his wallet for spare bills before I wake him up and tell him to leave. Something tells me today won’t be the day he wakes up and realizes he is now the adult he’s always wanted to be either.
That’s something we have in common. That, and the nice teeth.