Keeping Up Appearances

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family / love / Song / stories

Bathroom3

The bathroom is immaculate like a work of art, i dare not touch anything. The wall paper has a mother of pearl sheen, there are beautiful Japanese prints and a faint smell of Jasmine fills the space. It seems the towels are stacked with the use of a ruler and the toilet bowl itself looks like a delicate piece of china.
I had only gone in here because i needed to escape the crowd downstairs. I hardly knew anyone and everybody seemed to ask the same boring questions; about work, about how we met, did we plan to start a family together? Their interrogations were simultaneously intrusive and superficial, typical of people making small talk without being genuinely interested. After humoring them for the sake of my boyfriend, i had started to feel claustrophobic and needed to leave the room before i would say something i would later regret, or worse do something that would damage Jeff’s chances at that promotion. Because that is why we are here, to show his superiors that he is the right man for the job, that he is deserving of the chance they are about to bestow on him. And he does deserve it. He has worked so hard the last couple of years, working late, taking extra courses, playing golf while he actually hates the sport. All for the sake of upward mobility, to break through to the next tier, to become a contender as Marlon Brando wanted in On the Waterfront. I just hope our story won’t end as tragically as that film did. It would break my heart.
Yet standing in this bathroom breathing deeply, the aggravated breath making my nostrils flare, i suddenly realize i want him to fail. I want this night to turn into a disaster, because i said something improper or used the wrong fork. These people feel entitled to everything; to judge what does not fit their perception of the world, to feel superior because they never have to worry about making reservations at that fancy restaurant. And i should know, i come from their world. But i emigrated long ago, stifled by the mores of my environment i had to get away from their misplaced arrogance and condemning stares. I could have settled for everything, marrying the right boy with the right credentials, doing charity work and going to fundraisers at the Met. But that predestined future seemed so suffocating it made me nauseous and i left with nothing but the clothes on my back. I haven’t seen my family in over eight years, although i call my mom each year on her birthday. I never meant to break her heart.

Song for today: Bob Moses – Winter’s Song

The Author

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.”  Miss Piggy

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