Abducted
Little does he know, when she pulls in front of him just as he turns into the parking lot, that this event has changed the course of his life. His coffee splashes on the floor when he hit the brakes. A quick flash of anger as he watches her drive on into the parking lot, oblivious to the fact he had the right-of-way. He sees her again after he parks, when she passes in front of his van; a suburban clone, blonde, ponytail, distracted by some frivolous conversation on a cell phone while trying to see over the hood of a tank-size SUV.
She stops a few cars down to wait for an elderly couple get into their car and vacate their parking space. Why didn’t she take the space six cars back and simple walk the extra distance? Two cars pull to a stop behind her. They have to wait for her to get out of the way. She honks, apparently to hurry the elderly couple.
He shakes his head. How many of these clones has he seen before, the type that thinks the world revolves around them, utterly unaware of the real world, or other people’s sensibilities, spoiled from the moment they’re born, little girls that grow up selfish and self-serving, then marry the ambitious fraternity man that has to have just the right female to call his wife?
Maybe this bothered him more these days, now that his business had gone under, now that he had lost his house and was living in the lake cabin left to him by his uncle, all heaped on the pain of losing his wife in an automobile accident less than a year before. A year ago this obnoxious female wouldn’t have roused a second thought.
He watches her maneuver the big SUV into the parking space, step down out of the cab and start toward the grocery store, stopping to confront the cart attendant about a cart that had gotten in her way. He can see the boy trying to be polite even though she’s talking down to him, likely accusing him of not doing his job.
She’s blessed—his whole world has fallen apart. She will fill her shopping cart with expensive organic food and the latest high-energy sports drinks. He’ll buy sugar and coffee and maybe a pot roast. His money will run out within a few months. He feels powerless, like the world had passed him by and he will never catch up. His optimism and ambition have been reduced to pangs of inadequacy, failure, unable to solve problems or make decisions; a low that often feels like a physical pain, a low he had never realized even existed.
