Thursday, December 24, 2015

The Morning Interruption

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, please excuse the interruption. I am currently homeless due to a fire that destroyed my apartment at a recent time. I would like to get back on my feet soon. I would like to get a job and put my life together. I would sincerely appreciate some help, yadda yadda yadda.

Again, I am sorry for interrupting your ride. I see that most of you are listening to your audio devices and pretending you don’t hear me too. Some are reading books or magazines. I regret that I’m interfering with your enjoyment and/or relaxation. But I am a person in need.

You were probably sitting there thinking, OK, I made my train. Only gonna be a few minutes late to work today. Time to plug those earbuds in and disconnect from reality. Listening to what, your podcast. This American Life. Mark Maron. In all likelihood. And then sure enough, here I am, stepping onto the crowded train just before the doors close and starting to holler on about something. I know your heart sank when I opened my mouth. Don’t say it didn’t, I know it did. Oh fuck, you thought to yourself, it’s one of these fucking guys. Ignore him and he’ll shut up after a while. I know, I once was you. In the times before my apartment and personal belongings were destroyed in a fire. Before I allowed addiction to temporarily overwhelm my life, although I am now on a recovery path. Back when I still had a job. Damn, I’m not shutting up after all. I could use anything you’d be so kind and generous to offer. Dollars, pennies. A sandwich.

You were sitting there all peaceful like, wondering about some shit your boss said yesterday, worryin’ about a deliverable. Maybe you had a fight with the wife this morning. The husband. Or maybe you rolled out of the bed of someone you met on Tinder. You didn’t think she had a dog, did you? But sure enough there he was, yappin’ at your ankles at six o’clock in the morning. Where the fuck am I?, you thought. What is this bed? What are these sheets with flowers on them? Who is this other human being? Where the fuck did this little dog come from? Dog’s gotta go out tho. It’s what dogs do.

You can’t believe I’m still talking. It jus’ ain’t supposed to be.

She was alright, she was nice. Too nice. Now you’re afraid she wants to see you again, am I right? And you do too but you’re afraid. You know she’s a nice girl, and smart, and she oughta be the mother of your children someday. But you’re a scared ‘n’ irresponsible 32-year-old man who thinks the holy motherfuckin’ grail of women is still out there for you to fuck. So you said goodbye, thank you, had a great time. Gave her a little kiss and said you’d call her but you know you won’t. Bet you felt a little dirty when you wandered into the Dunkin’ Donuts near the train to get your coffee on. A little dirty, a little guilty. And sad.

Am I right?

But today’s a new day! Maybe you can make it a new day for me. As I explained earlier, I am recovering from addiction and in addition to that fact my home was recently ravaged by fire, during which time I also found myself out of a job. So I could use a little help. Anything you got. I could use your prayers. I could use your positive thoughts. I could use your money.

God bless you all and have a safe journey.