25 to Life

I dumped out the remnants of a grainy, lukewarm cup of coffee and marched proudly into the Men’s bathroom around 10:30am. I was 2 hours into a new job, my fourth corporate desk job since graduating college, and I couldn’t wait to take my first look at what would be my home away from home-away from home for the next few months/years/possibly decades. Upon entering this white collar latrine, my first impression was slight disappointment. The place was a little too dim for my liking, and the amenities seemed to be somewhat dated. However, I found the placement of the handicapped stall in seclusion at the back of the restroom to be quite satisfactory and quickly made my move to occupy it. There were no witnesses in the vicinity, so the excitement of what was about to happen grew even greater. I stepped through the welcoming gates of the of this spacious throne room, latched the door, unbuckled a reversible belt from Macy’s, and undid a pair of navy blue slacks from Kohls. I sat down on the debatably clean seat and released a flat out tirade on the unsuspecting porcelain bowl. There was nothing solid to this defecation, it was just a muddy milkshake laden with fragments of undigested peanuts, corn, and Cheese Nips. Nothing about it could be considered remotely healthy, it was just a ghastly hodgepodge from the previous night’s unnecessary feeding frenzy. Most of it didn’t even touch the water, it just splattered across the white basin. If Kurt Cobain was full of shit, this is what his living room wall would’ve looked like.

While I sat there blasting chocolate cake batter, I thought about how my knowledge and previous job experience was really going to help me succeed with this new company. More melted Snickers shots, and then thoughts of how I needed to make a good impression on my boss by showing off leadership qualities, and an ability to take charge of my group’s assignments right away. I spewed more Dilophosaurus spit, and thought about all of the possibilities of making a name for myself in this new company, and how this position was just another step on the way to the top of my industry.

When the rectal carnage was finally over, I was left to orchestrate a wipe down that couldn’t have been much different from that on a Gulf dwelling pelican. I made my way out of crime scene, headed over to the sink, and turned the faucet to wash a pair of soiled, 25 year old hands. In the process of doing this, I looked up into the mirror at a scruffy face that’s beginning to show signs of a little weathering. In that moment a voice in the back of my head blurted out:

“What the fuck happened to you?”

It was an odd statement for what most would consider to be a landmark day in a life, but the voice continued, “How the hell did this happen? What are you even doing here?”

I can’t be sure why that voice had to pipe up and sour my mindset like that, but it’s most likely because through out the better part of the last quarter of a century, thoughts like the ones that came out of my head on the toilet were the equivalent of what had just come out of my ass.

The yelling continued, “If I recall correctly, this wasn’t the plan! Where’s the difference maker? Where’s the innovator? Where’s the famous star? Where’s the man who was supposed to leave an impact by being something this world had never seen before? All I see is another average drone who’s just along for the ride!”

I did my best to ignore the voice, but I have to admit that it got to me a little bit. I sheepishly pulled myself away from the mirror, and walked out of the bathroom with a fraction of the pride I had walking in, as well as a fraction of the weight. I made my way back through the long, quiet hallway and found a cubicle with my name etched in the plastic plate.

“So this is your desk huh? This is where the genius works aalll of his magic. I can only imagine what a prodigy like yourself is capable of doing here. What is it that you’re working on now?”

“I’m filing reports with the FDA.” I reluctantly answered back.

“Wowiee! That’s fucking incredible! FDA! What’s that stand for? Failed to Do Anything?”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, let me know if this place has any good medication, cause you’re making me fucking sick!”

Not much later, my supervisor came over to check in on me.

“I need you to review these guidelines, and when you’re done we’ll go through our first submission together.”

“Alrighty, sounds good.” I said.

I starting reading through the immense stack of papers, but it was hard concentrate because I knew another argument was coming.

“Did you just use the word ‘alrighty’? When the fuck did that start?”

“Relax, it just slipped out that one time.”

“Jesus Christ you sound like a soccer mom taking orders at Benningan’s.”

I tried to read on but the voice just wouldn’t stop.  

“Hey remember when you were gonna be a Doctor? Yeah, you were gonna cure cancer and that whole bit. Oh, and then we were gonna be a Vet cause you can’t deal with people. Remember?”

“Not happening, too much time, money, and effort.” I thought back.

“Don’t give me those half-ass excuses! While you’re sitting here emailing video links to make the 3 friends that you have left lol, there are cats dying of AIDS! Fucking Cat AIDS! I’m telling you, Google it, it’s for real! Garfield, Felix, the short black guy from Wild ‘N Out, they all have Cat AIDS and it’s all your fault!”

I trudged through the rest of the day with my conscience waving all of these former dreams in front of me. Hockey player, Football player, Paleontologist, Physical Therapist, Zoologist, the list went on and on until it was time for me, the Regulatory Publishing Specialist, to leave. I walked through the cold November rain, and hopped into my Mazda 3 as quickly as I could.

“Didn’t think you’d be driving one of these 10 years ago, did ya?”

“Oh stop, it’s a good car.”

“Average at best.”

I put my iPod on shuffle and the first song on was “The Way I Am” by Eminem.

“Wow, speaking of 10 years ago, this song is about that old. Hey, didn’t you want to be a rapper back then?”

“No.”

“Yeah you did! I even remember some of the lines! Drop a beat for me, check this out:

            ‘I’ll take it to the pearly gates if I have to

            Forget about Luke, Mark, John and Matthew

            My word’s the real gospel, and it’s coming right atchu

            I’m holdin’ the torch just like that Liberty Sta…’

“ALRIGHT!! THAT’S ENOUGH!!! SHUT UP!!!”

The drive home was torturous. Traffic was at a stand still for miles on the Parkway, cars filled with average people who were living the same average 9-5 lifestyle as me. The day that had started out with so much promise and optimism for the years to come was laid to waste because of the realization that the last 25 didn’t exactly pan out the way I thought they would. Was this what I was sentenced to do for the rest of my life because of it? Did I miss my chance to make a real impact on this world? What exactly am I doing to a make difference in people’s lives?

After close to an hour on the Parkway, I finally made it back home.

“Oh look next door, there’s the house you grew up in! You really let those eagle wings spread, huh?”

My parents had nothing to eat, and since I had no desire to make anything, I headed down to Taco Bell. When I got there, there was a guy at the counter who looked about the same age as me. He also looked about as downcast as I was feeling; clearly working at Taco Bell was not something this man had in his plans 10 years ago. I approached the counter and in a gruff voice he asked, “How can I help you?”

“Yeah, can I have 2 chalupas?” I asked with the same enthusiasm.

“Will that be all?”

“Yeah, I did a number on the office toilet this morning, and I don’t need to go through that again.”

Obviously not the funniest thing I’ve ever said, but it was right up this guy’s alley because laughed legitimately hard at it.

“Alright man, you’re total is $4.83.” He said with a smile a completely different tone.

I grabbed my food and walked out of there feeling much better about things. Not just because I had 2 chalupas in my hand, but because I was able to make that guys day a little bit better. I guess that simple moment kind of put everything into perspective for me. I don’t need to cure cancer or cat AIDS to make an impact on the world, I don’t have to be a doctor to make people feel better, all I have to do to make a difference in someone’s life is to make them laugh. I don’t have to make a living off of it to prove that it makes an impact, and I don’t have to do it on a large scale in order to be considered a meaningful person.

Despite the characterization I may have built for myself on this blog, I’m actually an extremely empathetic individual who really cares about the well being of both people who are close to me, and people that I barely know. That’s a quality that has been with me my entire life, and always will be. Laughter has always been a major part of my life as well, as it has never taken much to make me do so. It wasn’t until about 2 years ago however that I found the power to create laughter from others. The work I’ve done in writing since then has changed my life in ways I could have never imagined, and it has led me to do things that I never thought possible. I hate that I have gotten away from doing this in the past few months, but I really have been focused on my professional career over the last half of this year, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to juggle both. Regardless of where the next 25 years take me, I want comedy, whether it be on this blog, on stage, or just hanging out with a few people, to always be a part of it. Because if there’s one thing my conscience can never criticize me for, it’s my ability to laugh at and with the world around me.