"So she closed her eyes tightly, and cried a little for those happy days that she'd never see again, but would spend her life reliving."
If you’re reading this, if there’s air in your lungs on this November day, then there is still hope for you. Your story is still going. And maybe some things are true for all of us. Perhaps we all relate to pain. Perhaps we all relate to fear and loss and questions. And perhaps we all deserve to be honest, all deserve whatever help we need. Our stories are all so many things: Heavy and light. Beautiful and difficult. Hopeful and uncertain. But our stories aren’t finished yet. There is still time, for things to heal and change and grow. There is still time to be surprised. We are still going, you and I. We are stories still going.
Some say the world will end in fire,
Me: *takes 50 selfies*
me: *deletes 49*
me: *stares at that one selfie til it turns ugly*
me: *deletes that too*
(A gay couple has just met up in the restaurant and kissed each other upon arrival. Another customer has seen this and is obviously angry.)
Angry Customer: “Damn f**s.”
Gay Man: “Excuse me?”
Angry Customer: “You heard me, you little s***. Let’s not make this into some little pride protest, okay? I have to accept that you’re going to live your lifestyle, and you have to accept that I’ve got freedom of speech.”
Gay Man: *quietly* “Is it too much to ask for a little human decency?”
Angry Customer: “Human? Listen up, what you’re doing is not human. I think I have the right to determine what I think is human.”
(The manager shows up. He’s a quiet Italian man who I assume is conservative due to the Christian imagery and portrait of Reagan he keeps around the restaurant.)
Angry Customer: *to the owner* “Hey, can you move either them or us to another table?”
(Instead of responding to the angry customer, the owner instead speaks to his wife.)
Owner: “I’m sorry ma’am, but we have a strict ‘no pets’ policy in my restaurant.”
Wife: “Uh, I, uh, what? I don’t have a—”
Owner: “Well, according to your talking monkey over here, I can determine who’s a human and who’s not. You bring an animal into my restaurant; I gotta assume it’s your pet.”
(The angry customer storms out. When I left, the owner was giving his description, and copies of security camera footage, to the biggest crowd of police I’ve seen. Apparently it’s a bad idea to not pay your bill at a restaurant that gives free coffee to cops.)
Perfect human being.