Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Through the Rain

This weekend Mary and I were planning to go to a fantastic Halloween costume party. We didn't make it. We ran into someone from my past Saturday afternoon while we were out running errands, and I was so incensed afterward that I completely lost my party mood. This person, who shall remain nameless, is completely oblivious when it comes to the ways of empathy or social grace. He is the proverbial bull in the china shop of etiquette. He is familiar with my employment history and knows that I lost my job in April of last year due to a corporate reorganization. He asked how we had been doing and how long I ended up being out of work. I told him a year. He said that that sucked. I agreed. He then proceeded to ask us if we'd made it. If we made it through the rain. If we kept our world protected. If we made it through the rain. And kept our point of view. If we made it through the rain and found ourselves respected. By others who got rained on, too. If those words don't ring a bell, they're lyrics from a Barry Manilow song. And he tossed them out with such cavalier indifference, it was just shy of mockery. And this is but a mere glimpse into how much of an asshat he truly is. This is how he chose to inquire as to whether we had survived the year of my unemployment. A year of feeling worthless because I couldn't find a job, despite applying for roughly two hundred of them. A year of wondering when, or if, it was ever going to get better. A year of buying groceries from Dollar General. A year of trying—unsuccessfully at times—to put on a brave face in front of Mary and then weeping after she left for work because I wasn't taking care of her. So to answer your question, you bumbling, boorish jackass, yes. We made it through just fine. And in the future, when you see me? Do us both a favor. Turn around and walk the other way.