A New Story: Floor

Bob remembered the moment he began to feel it all slipping away.  Like the straw that broke the camel’s back, it had been a long process.  It was the New Year’s Eve party before their youngest graduated from college.  There was no certain thing from that evening that that stood out.  What he did remember was a sense of overwhelming dread that smothered him as he and Marsha left the party. 

 

It was at that moment Bob realized he didn’t know how he could survive another year.  Somehow, he did survive over two years until this moment.  The morning after the party his mind immediately filled with thoughts of work and how he repeatedly was overlooked for promotions.  He recounted each slight like he was living them again.  Bob worked hard and took pride in his work.  Like most men, work was his identity.  His father drilled into him the belief men must work and work hard.  They had to give their all when they work.  There was pride in doing your utmost.

 

For many years, he trusted hard work would give him recognition and advancement.  Reality was different.  No one expressed appreciation for a job well done.  Regardless of the complexity of the project or extra hours worked to bring it to an on time completion, no one cared.  However, the slightest error was highlighted and scrutinized. 

 

Perhaps the final straw happened a few days before New Year’s .  Bob submitted a bid on a new position that would be a similar to his but had a modest pay increase.  He knew he was qualified even though he would need to learn procedures.  When the company introduced a recent college graduate as the person for the job, Bob’s heart sunk.  The company lacked the decency to privately advise him they would hire someone from the outside.  He learned when the office received the announcement. 

 

It was a terrible slap in the face.  He bore no grudge against the young man.  He was the same age as his daughter.  It was hard for kids to find work after college.  Still, he hated the thought of having a child dictate his work life.  This was just another of a long line of kids who only cared about getting the next promotion.  They always used subordinates to look good.  Then, because they looked good and did and said the right things, they moved on.

 

Bob was particularly morose during the drive home that day.  He felt Marsha must have noticed but instead of being a caring wife, she continued her routine of nitpicking every real or perceived shortcoming she saw in her husband.  That was the day he stopped believing things would ever get better. 

 

Driving to the hotel where he had been staying, Bob’s stomach churned.  Part of him wanted to continue with the divorce.  He didn’t believe Marsha would ever change no matter how much she might want to so.  Not having to deal with her would be a big relief in his life.  In that moment of his life, he didn’t want to consider ever being with another woman.  They were all the same.  Bob simply couldn’t bear the thought of putting himself through the same shit again. 

 

Then another thought crept into his mind.  If he did continue pursuing the divorce and Marsha did take everything, he probably deserved it.  After pouring himself into work for the whole of his life, he still was nothing.  Perhaps this is what the universe was telling him.  Bob, you are a fool for believing you could ever be someone.  You are no one. 

 

His emotions were numb.  In desperation, Bob screamed at the top of his lungs, hoping for a bit of relief.  Once finished, nothing had changed.  He drove to a liquor store and purchased a bottle of tequila.  Later, as he walked to his hotel room, he chuckled to himself while repeating a phrase in his mind, “One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor."