I’m glad I can talk to you

Today’s post marks the second in a series of posts centering around a fictional character in a contrived scenario while he tries to cope with the harsh reality of life’s disappointments. The following post & eventual future posts are in no way autobiographical & the scenarios discussed simply create a backdrop for reflection on general topics like processing grief & remaining motivated through adversity. 

Photo illustration by Mindy Ricketts
Photo illustration by Mindy Ricketts

WARNING: Excerpt contains profanity & anger-driven language to enhance realism & achieve dramatic effect. 

It was an awful day at the office. Once again, I had to do all the dirty work. I had to field all the customer complaints. I had to resolve all the disputes. I had to run around like a one man “9-1-1” Emergency Service Operation for eight straight goddamn hours putting out one fire after another, breaking up a fight here & there, & even saving a kitten stuck in a tree! Okay. I’m not really an emergency first responder so I didn’t actually perform all those tasks throughout the city; I was stuck in an office building all day. But it sure felt like it. And what burns me up inside is that the tall, muscular, big-shot section chief got all the credit! Of course. He’s bigger than I am. He’s taller than I am. Everyone assumes he’s better than I am. But any time there’s a conflict, he manages to be somewhere else. And when I approach him for help, he shames me into handling the crisis myself. “Well, don’t tell me your too afraid to handle this on our own;” or, “Well, we expect that our staff should be able to handle such a routine scenario without help.” I used to believe him & feel ashamed; that the boss man was too busy & too important to handle these menial tasks that were my responsibility. But eventually I realized that he was just too scared to do it himself. “Holy Hell!” I thought. “What’s the point of being that damn tall & that damn big if you’re just going to be a big pussy?” It pissed me off so hard to know this about our huge boss & realize that all the pretty women in the office celebrate him as a demi-god while they simultaneously treated me like the neighborhood stray puppy. But I’m used to it. It’s fine. My goal in life isn’t  to stoke my own pride. I’m glad to have a job. I’m not worried about what every pretty female co-worker thinks about me.

I’m only worried about what she thinks about me. Lorraine (pronounced Lore Rain)– the purest of the pure, the apex of feminine virtue–as long as she saw through all the nonsense & recognized my value over Mr. Lucifer’s, then I was fine. I realized a while ago that we can’t spend our lives trying to please everyone; because that’s impossible. The trick is to pick the people who we absolutely cannot let down; along with the people who absolutely would not let us down–& focus on pleasing them. In the process, we will inevitably accomplish a life path that will please ourselves. That’s the goal, at least. To heck with what anyone else thinks; as long as Lorraine believed in me, I had all the motivation I will ever need. As long as Lorraine invests herself in my success, I had all the support I will ever need. I should take a step back to establish who this Lorraine is.

Lorraine is absolute beauty. I realize that beauty is relative–& there is hardly a consensus on physical beauty. But that’s the reason why I can say with clarity that Lorraine is absolute beauty. Her beauty transcends the physical. Her beauty transcends any individual sense. I can smell, taste, touch, see, & hear her beauty all at once. Even her voice is beautiful! The first time I witnessed her speak, I stood dumbfounded–unable to respond for a good two minutes or so. It was as though I had witnessed a divine being appear before me and, before I could even acknowledge the reality of such a fantastic moment, heard the delicate creature speak to me in that soft, melodious, music-box like voice. I often struggle with insomnia. Years ago, me & a couple of my bachelor buddies exchanged notes on living alone. I discovered that almost all of us slept with the TV on because the ambient noise off in the distance was the closest thing to having someone there with you. Whenever I relied on this tactic to fill a lonely void, it rarely produced positive results. But as soon as I heard even two syllables of that musical voice of hers, I instantly felt comforted enough to allow the spirit of drowsiness to take hold of me. “Wow,” I thought. “I would never have trouble falling asleep again if I had her to talk to at bedtime,” I thought.

But today at work, I saw Lorraine do something that was so out of character for her. She stopped when Hot-shot Boss Man approached her in the hallway. Instead of politely responding & then quickly excusing herself, she chose to linger for some reason. I wasn’t spying on them; I just happened to be on my way to the copy room. But Lorraine’s response was so far removed from what I’ve observed her do for the past three years, I stopped to watch. Was something wrong? Did Mr. Lucifer “Look-at-Me”/I’m so great” boss man have some bad news for this angel? I had to know.

They lingered for several minutes–way more time than was necessary for a quick, impromptu work-related update in the hallway. I took a closer look, & gasped at what I saw. Lorraine was smiling & laughing & carrying on with this insufferable CAVEMAN! I couldn’t believe it! Lorraine had worked with this dumb-ass Mastodon for three years & barely even acknowledged him outside of a clear job-function related directive. And what’s more is that she smiled! She NEVER smiles! I’ve only observed her smile at me a handful of times & that was enough to make me feel special. What now? Does this mean that Mr. Big Dick boss was suddenly special to her too? “He’s a fucking pussy!”I wanted to scream.

“Jack, I’m glad that I have you to talk to. I’m so pissed off by what I saw today. What do you think?”

Jack fell silent as he usually does when I pose an emotionally charged question to him. He usually does this because the answer is self-evident. I’m only asking someone else because I’m hoping they will talk me out of believing what I already know. After a prolonged silence, I lashed out, having answered my own dreadful question in my mind: “Fuck that worthless, 80-foot tall, 2800 lbs, DINOSAUR! He’s a NOBODY! He’s a NOTHING! Everything these pretty women think he is, he’s not! I’m the one who faces down conflict! I’m the one who charges into adversity! I’m the one who exudes every single goddamn allegedly “manly”quality that these confused women automatically attribute to Mr. Bigg Boss just because he’s so fucking big but I run this shit! I’m where the rubber hits the road! Fuck that gargantuan dumb-asss! He’s the NOBODY! But everyone treats me like I am. Why? Because I’m not as tall as he is? Because I don’t make as much as he does? Because I’m not in charge the way he is? Holy hell! Does every single woman have to follow this same blueprint & submit to the man with “authority”? He’s a fucking spineless wonder!”

“I don’t care, Jack.  I don’t fucking care! To hell with everyone else but as long as Lorraine was free from this trance, then my world would still turn.” It used to bother me–this paradigm of the hot girls always falling for the bad boy. I figured that only applied to the bad girls. But after I found myself on the short side of the straw too many times, I realized that even the good girls fall for the bad boys, no matter what they “claim” to be looking for. Fine. I made peace with that. I could do without the whole lot of them; as long as Lorraine stayed pure. “Damn it, Jack! Not her too!” I screamed.

“Excuse me sir,” a kind female voice pierced my frenzied state. “Do you mind cashing out now? We closed twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh yes. Sorry. I lost track,” I replied as I paid the bill. I looked around & was stunned to see what had been a crowded bar just minutes ago now appear empty save for the handful of staff left behind. I noticed chairs stacked against the walls, the floor wet in spots from having been mopped–oh, & it wasn’t even dark in there anymore. They had turned the lights on. Wow. I had really been lost in thought. I finished the last little bit of my drink & headed for the door. I felt warm & silly & the world was spinning; but I was still pissed as hell. I was sad. I was sad that I had a jerk-wad boss. I was sad that I did all the hard work & received none of the credit. I was sad that Lorraine had behaved just like a another pretty girl today when I know she is so much more. And I was sad that I didn’t really have anyone to talk to about my problems except for a bartender & a couple of waitresses who got paid to pretend to care . . .  oh, & of course, my good ‘ole pal Jack Daniels. Yes. At least I had Jack to help me get through life’s latest crisis. As I step outside I notice the ground is wet & think, “It must have rained the whole time I was inside.”

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