Nothing
Written: November 22, 2004
Nothing is an odd story and the only one of its kind on my list. It is a story written while I was downing the Tequila and very much feeling lonely. My wife had just taken a third shift job with a certain huge retail chain born in Arkansas and I was not only very concerned for her welfare (driving home from work at 7 AM after a hard night of lifting and stocking) but the state of our now disjointed marriage. I have always held a professional day job - the fruits of a college education and a lot of hard work to maintain my status as a marketable commodity. My wife grew up differently and spent quite a lot of her youth working in machine shops and factories. That kind of work is ok when you have a young body but as she hit her thirties she knew she had to find something else. Eventually, she landed in the pharmaceutical field as a technician but after a few stints with part-time work in the major pharmacies, she felt she needed to get into the huge Arkansas based chain. Unfortunately, the only position open was this shit-hole third shift stocking job, with assurances that she would move into the pharmacy as soon as something opened up.
So, getting back to Nothing, the first few weeks of having to say good bye to her as she pulled out of the garage at 9 PM to make the forty minute commute to work the graveyard shift while I faced the prospect of sleeping alone in a cold empty bed - that was pretty hard. I began a routine of drinking and trying to write before crawling into bed. The story called Nothing was written when I was quite drunk. I did show it to my wonderful friend and proof-reader and she suggested it never see the light of day. Maybe she was right.
But there are a few raw truths in Nothing, not the least of which is the intensity of emotions brought out by desire and unhappiness and alcohol. A powerful combination, those three. So, although maybe not as coherent as my other stories, I've decided that it does merit inclusion here. And as they say, when in Rome do as the Romans do. (The far-flung analogy being that a story about an unhappy, lonely, drunk might be just as good if written while drunk and unhappy and lonely).
Toran