It had been three, maybe four weeks since I’d eaten anything that hadn’t come out of a take out box or through a drive-through window. I’d gained fifteen pounds, looked like shit, felt even worse.
I accepted my double Whopper with extra cheese value meal from the counter monkey with a sneer.
“Keep the change, junior.”
I tossed the twenty-something cents on the greasy counter at the seventeen-year-old zit-faced fuck. A few of the pennies overshot the edge and slid onto the floor. He didn’t move to pick them up.
I turned to leave. I could feel his stare burning up my back side as I intentionally pushed open his freshly Windexed glass doors with a greasy, unwashed hand. This kid hadn’t done a damn thing to me. Nothing. He’d actually been really nice, and I think he’d been trying to brighten my day with a cheery smile and a few attempts at conversation. I’d instantly shot them down with unrestrained contempt.
I’d instantly hated him.
I’d hated his shiteating grin, his eagerness to please, his kindness to a disheveled mouth-breather like myself–but most of all, I’d hated his potential. He had his entire life in front of him, and here I am, thirty-seven, divorced, in a job going nowhere, up to my ass in debt. He can do anything he wants. He’s probably a month from being valedictorian, and then off to some Ivy League school where he’s going to be knee-deep in hot, rich, pussy. Probably bang a dozen girls in his first semester if he has a clue what he’s doing.
I sat in my ostentatiously expensive sports car and wolfed down my fast food filth, not tasting a bite of it. My stomach twisted around the rock of low-grade beef, but I ignored it.
It wasn’t for the sake of getting away from junior that I’d left the “restaurant.” My rapidly growing stomach, declining hairline, and the deep bags under my eyes were more than enough to make me turn away from any reflective surface these days. That included the large windows of the place’s lobby.
“Hey.”
My head jerked up from the burger wrapping unfolded in my lap and the remaining overcooked fries. The kid had followed me outside, and was staring down through the driver’s side window. Christ, he’s going to beat the shit out of me. Good. Maybe he’ll kill me and save me the trouble.
I rolled down the window a crack and screamed at him. “What, goddammit?!”
“Um… you were… cry–you looked distressed… distraught. I just wanted to make sure you’re OK.”
I twisted the rear view mirror to look at myself. Tears lined my face, and more sat in the corners of my eyes waiting for their cue. I’d been crying and not even realizing it. Had I been crying in the burger joint? When did I start this time?
Did it matter?
“Yeah…” I managed a wan smile for the kid and looked him in the eye. I wanted desperately to loathe him. Like a long string of other unfortunate strangers, I wanted him to take the brunt of my self-pity and rage instead of me. Just for a little while.
He smiled back. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” I nodded slowly and wiped the tears out of my eyes. My eyes flitted to his plastic name badge. “Thanks… Thomas.”
“It’s Tom. And you’re welcome.”
A squawk burst from the mic headset he was wearing. Tom pressed a button on the box hanging from his belt.
“Welcome to Burger King, may I take your order?” He smiled again and waved silently, then turned and walked back to work.
I turned the key in the ignition, and the German-engineered beast purred to life. I opened the glove box to stare the pistol lying on top of badly folded maps and old chapstick. I pushed it shut again and drove away.
December 29, 2007 at 10:41 am
Yo man, hope you’re doing all right, I check your site from time to time. I enjoy reading your blogs. lol.
This last blog was written very well.
If ya ever need someone to talk to dude. Hit me up!
Look forward to reading the next entry. peace
December 29, 2007 at 6:37 pm
That was pretty good!
December 30, 2007 at 5:33 am
Going all American Beauty in your writing style? Aged overnight, I see? Just trying to capture that creative mind of yours on paper, or did you forget you’re still a 6’something, 20-something gorgeous stud who could get more pussy (or dick) than almost all who walk the earth now in an effort to fool all your “loyal fans” from your blog?
December 30, 2007 at 11:59 am
Thanks for the comments! I’m desperately needy when it comes to my writing…
:: uncomfortable silence ::
I was about to crawl into bed the other night, and noticed my stomach sticking out a bit farther than usual. I’d been eating almost nothing but fast-food garbage for the last few days, and it was beginning to show. A vague idea for a story formed in my head, and I ran with it.
January 1, 2008 at 8:53 pm
OK. So now I have the image of your stomach, uncovered, in bed, in my head… you crawling around naked in your bed. Adam will pay for that.
January 1, 2008 at 8:54 pm
Maybe this will get my mind off it… http://games.yahoo.com/free-games/the-eight-queens
January 2, 2008 at 8:40 pm
Well, that’s certainly a disturbing revelation. Thanks for that.