M for language
I was watching this movie in the waiting room today. Some old rich fuck died or some shit. Had a heart attack in the middle of giving a speech about how he thought the children were the fucking “future of our nation” and how he thought that “more than anything, we should be making sure that they have good lives and good educations” and whatever. Said that he was giving all of his money to some program to build schools and give out scholarships to needy kids, stuff like that. Then, when he was done talking about what a great person he was for giving all his money away, he started apologizing for all this crap he did in the past and saying sorry to all the people he’d screwed over. Real heartfelt. He was crying. The audience was crying. The director was probably crying over the size of his paycheck. Then the old guy kicked the bucket. The people around him started freaking out, calling for medics, asking for a doctor, all the usual, “We’re in a movie and someone’s dying” stuff. And he holds onto this chicks hand – no clue who she was- and says that he’s okay, that he’s alright to go now because he’s made amends and he’s gonna die a poor man. And he does, just closes his eyes and lays back. At first, I was like, the fuck? Who wants to die poor? What the fuck ya doin’ man, I mean, really? The chick feels his neck. Starts giving these little gasping things I think were supposed to be sobs. Says he’s dead and really? No, can’t be. I never could have guessed. But then, and here’s the thing, everyone’s crying even harder, starts talking about how he was misunderstood and what a great man he was. Like they don’t even remember that he hurt most of them or stole their money. And that’s when I see it.
He did all this shit to people, messed all these people up, but everyone forgives him. Just like that. Cause he gave a bunch of his stuff away to the “less fortunate”. Just like that, instant forgiveness. What a load of cock’n’bull. No way that’s true But then, when Doctor Man-hands was driving in the fact that I had five months if I was lucky and took care of myself, “and let’s be honest here, Robert, you haven’t even given up smoking,” I started thinking. I mean, I had money. I had people I could make some apologies to. Maybe I could buy myself a ticket to heaven.
I tried apologizing to people first. Seemed like the easiest thing I could do. I mean, a few words, make them feel good about themselves, repeat all of the things they’ve said you did wrong. Shit’s done. Except I started with Mom. Soon as she picked up the phone, the fucking bitch is screaming my ear off, cussing up a storm. Threatening me like she used to threaten dad, saying I was a little shit like he was before he croaked and how she didn’t give a crap whether or not I was dying, I better not come around and how she hoped I got hit by a car so that there was one less asshole in the world. I hung up before she could really get started. Charity it is.
“Are you sure, man, this is some pretty nice shit.” I resisted the urge to inform the pizza-faced Goodwill cashier of the fact that I was unaware that any kind of shit could be nice and settled with a glare. He gulped, his oversized Adam’s Apple bobbing in his skinny neck and pecked at the air with his rat teeth and pointy nose before he shuffled off behind a set of swinging doors, leaving me to look around and cringe away from boxes of pre-owned shoes and old. It took Chuck E Cheese 5 minutes too long to come back out and the only entertainment I had while he was gone was picking the gunk and lint out from under my nails. He reappeared with a whoosh of the doors and a rat-like squeak when it came back to hit him from behind, a carboard box in his hands. I watched as he semi-carefully put my donations in it before he looked at me again.
“Thanks man, every donation makes a difference,” he said in the tone of voice that implied even he didn’t believe what he was selling. Looking around at the girls in leggings and oversized Cosby sweaters and the red nosed lady who was spending way too much of her fucking time staring at the bread makers on metal shelves, I could understand why. I popped my glasses back on my face and shoved a Wriglet between my teeth and let the wrapper tumble to the floor as I stomped out the door. This shit better get me to Heaven.