Larry's Day

Larry orders the pita burger at lunch. It’s his favorite thing to eat at his work cafeteria.

Larry also likes french fries but he didn’t order them today because he wants to eat healthy. And he wants to lose weight. Mostly he skipped the french fries to lose weight, and the side salad looked good.

Larry and the checkout lady at Larry’s work cafeteria have had a conversation going on for several years, two sentences a day from each of them.  "So has your kid found an apartment yet?" "No, but he’s still looking in Brookline." "He’s going to need luck to find something he can afford there." "Yep, and that’s ten dollars and sixty five cents, hun." "Thanks."

On most days, the checkout lady at Larry’s work cafeteria speaks more words to Larry than Larry’s boss has spoken to Larry.

Larry takes a bite of his pita burger and looks out the window of his office and watches the ocean and pretends he’s out at sea, all alone, on a little white sailboat.

Larry has never sailed.

Larry cannot swim.

Larry is uncomfortable in crowds.

Larry takes another bite and tries to remember his dreams but can only think about the flowers on his porch. He thinks they’ll need to be watered today, tomorrow at the latest. No, it’s sunny, they’ll definitely need to be watered today.

At staff meetings, Larry sits at the conference table and sometimes daydreams about flying in a glider, high above snow covered mountains. But mostly, at staff meetings, Larry thinks about stabbing his boss in the eye with a pen.

Repeatedly.

Larry used to dream about working hard and becoming rich and living in a big house with lots of wooden fences and gravel driveways. He still dreams about the gravel driveways but he hasn’t dreamt about the big house for a long time.

Larry’s gravel driveway is long and straight and there are poplar trees lining each side. Lombardy poplars trees, he thinks, tall and thin, keeping the driveway shaded and cool for Larry’s walks. In his dreams, Larry walks and walks down the cool and shady gravel driveway, all alone, but no matter how far he goes, he never finds the big house.

Larry prefers finepoint pens. He likes the way the lines look as he writes, crisp and tight on a page. Whenever he’s in a stationary store he tries out all the different pens. But he only uses one specific brand, which he found in a German hardware store and now orders online.

Larry takes another bite out of his pita burger, waiting for security to show up.