Despondent Young Man Working At McDonald's
Swore off fast food eons ago but backslid tonight
and went to McDonald's. The young man who took my
order and my money said he was tired. I made sympathetic
noises and he said, 'not that kind of tired, but then
I know it's my own fault I ended up working here, at
least that's whattheytell me. I presumethey
were his parents.
He went on about how his life was meaningless, how
nothing meant anything anymore and it was all a joke.
He must've been all of 20 at the very most and had
given up on life.
I told him I had been a washout at 16 but somehow, managed
to get myself through night school with a high school
diploma verses a GED, and a scholarship to college. Worked
at a schlock job until I thought I was going to die from
being tired and humiliated, but I didn't. In fact, I
thrived and have lived a pretty good, privileged life.
He took my hand and squeezed it as he gave me my
change, thanking me for listening, caring. I said "Son,
please, please don't give up. I crawled out of hell and
you can, too.
And now this boy is with me forever, a part of me, haunting
me, reminding me just where I have come from and where I can
go back to in an instant if I forget to be grateful. This boy
is a reason to pray.
I beg God for a lot these days but none of it is for me and I'm
not sure if the tears I'm crying are for this boy or for the girl
I used to be who was once desparing like this boy is.
and went to McDonald's. The young man who took my
order and my money said he was tired. I made sympathetic
noises and he said, 'not that kind of tired, but then
I know it's my own fault I ended up working here, at
least that's whattheytell me. I presumethey
were his parents.
He went on about how his life was meaningless, how
nothing meant anything anymore and it was all a joke.
He must've been all of 20 at the very most and had
given up on life.
I told him I had been a washout at 16 but somehow, managed
to get myself through night school with a high school
diploma verses a GED, and a scholarship to college. Worked
at a schlock job until I thought I was going to die from
being tired and humiliated, but I didn't. In fact, I
thrived and have lived a pretty good, privileged life.
He took my hand and squeezed it as he gave me my
change, thanking me for listening, caring. I said "Son,
please, please don't give up. I crawled out of hell and
you can, too.
And now this boy is with me forever, a part of me, haunting
me, reminding me just where I have come from and where I can
go back to in an instant if I forget to be grateful. This boy
is a reason to pray.
I beg God for a lot these days but none of it is for me and I'm
not sure if the tears I'm crying are for this boy or for the girl
I used to be who was once desparing like this boy is.