At last, the viral scare is over and the world can return to its proper, abnormal state. And I can come out of my hole and join the rest of the world. I take a step outside, breathe the air and as Jimmi Hendrix once said, 'Kiss the sky'. I bring my eyes back to Earth and let my mind wander a moment. Where do I want to go first?
Of all the places in the neighborhood, which demands the most immediate appearance? Where have I been dying to go during my long incarceration? What else could it be than Yi's Noodle Shop, where you can get the best ramen, not the store bought stuff, real ramen. But no, wait, that place closed down several months before the lock down.
One of the many businesses steamrolled by the city's gentrification machine, to make us more appealing to the college crowd who find the price of real ramen to be non-negotiable when compared to the freeze dried stuff. You know, the kind that has no flavor to it, whatever. And can only season the water, for the most part.
Truth be told, all of my favorite hangouts suffered the same fate. The malt shop, the arcade, the pier, not to mention all the other locations I never thought to visit, closed down for good. There is nowhere for me to go. Nowhere I want to go. I sit down as I lose myself to the hopelessness of the situation.
"Good morning sir. And what a fine morning it is," I'm addressed out of the blue and raise my eyes to meet a well dressed man standing directly to my front. "Just the kind of morning that deserves being protected with home insurance."
I cast an unbelieving eye his way. Is this guy really trying to sell insurance right after a calamity?
"I can see you need a moment," he carries on and gives me a wide smile. "Just keep in mind that our comprehensive coverage covers major appliances as well as any break-ins. So what'ya say, should we go ahead and start your coverage?"
I haven't any words. So I let my look say it all.
He drops his salesman smile. "Look, can I level with you?" he asks before sitting down next to me, without waiting for an invitation. "I know I sound like a scumbag, selling insurance in these desperate times, but it's the only job I can get anymore. Then there's my wife. She lost her job as well and had to take three part-time jobs to make up the difference. And she's always tired and never has time for anything anymore. But then, neither do I. And the kids, let me tell you about the kids." A look at my face has him thinking twice. "I shouldn't be dumping all this on you. As if you don't have your own problems." He stands up. "Thanks for letting me vent a little, it took a load off my mind. Take care."
I watch as he walks away, no doubt to sell someone else insurance.
And as I observe I wonder just how much of his story was true, or was he merely priming the pump, as it were? Either way, I take a real good look at my life and decide, you know, I really don't have it that bad. Most of what affected me is merely convenience. I didn't have any ailing parents to take care of, or family to support. And my job was never eliminated and I always make enough to get by. So what do I really have to complain about? Nothing, that's what. I stand from my place and decide to take a short stroll through the neighborhood. You know, life isn't so bad after all.