John Anderson was a normal man who lived in a normal world. Walking the streets of New York as he made his way to a normal job, Mr. Anderson thought of only despair instead of happiness. Whenever he sat down to watch television all he saw were the special people. All he saw were the people who could play sports very well, or people who could write books that everyone wanted to read, or the actors who could pretend to be somebody else, something John personally did every day.
And the one thing that all of those people had that he didn't was talent. They had friends and money and all of the joys of the world that allowed them to live happily, while all he had was a job standing behind a counter in a convience store. He could still remember the time when his kindergarden teacher told him as well as the rest of the class that everyone was special, everyone different. Now all John could think about was how wrong his teacher was.
As he stood in a convience store that was operated by somebody who came from another country and probably wasn't even a citizen yet was still managing to make more money than him, John could only think of how he didn't have the voice to be a rock star. Of how he didn't have the brains to be a scientist or the grit to be a astronaut.
No, Mr. Anderson was a cash register operator. He lived with his mother even though he was twenty five. Mr. Anderson could watch those special people on the television. He could listen to their music on the internet and read about them in magazines, but he wasn't one of them. No, he was just a regular person.
"That'll be three o'two." John spoke almost mechanically as a woman in business suit sat a cup of coffee right in front of him.
She gave him a glare before leaving as though he were the reason for the high price of her early morning substance. Perhaps he had a disgusting face, yet another bad hand dealt his way, after all, he had never had a girlfriend before either. Apparently he wasn't even special enough for that.
John's blank face suddenly found a smile as he thought about the numerous movies he had seen addressing his very thoughts. The movies where two friends discussed their thoughts on life and tried to make themselves feel important even though they were working in a convience store. What amused him was the fact that those very movies showed his life, and yet the people playing the parts ended up becoming famous from the movie.
It was a irony that made him sick yet showed him the futility of his life all in one breath. If he were to die right now the only person who would notice would be his mother. She would be devastated, and then ultimately move on. His boss would find somebody else and then that would be it, just a memory.
Now if a famous actor were to die, they would be remembered for generations to come. They would be thought of as a humanitarian and a great person worth spending a thought over. Where was the fairness in that? Was the life of a mentally handicapped person worth less than that of a doctor?
If a massive tidal wave was coming to wipe out everyone and there was only enough room for one more person on a helicopter, who should be taken to safety, a rock star or a mother of three? If the mother sacrificed herself for the rock star, would she be remembered by the masses like the rock star would undoubtedly be if he completed such an honorable act?
Sadness told John no even though he wished he were wrong. In this world talent was the most important thing.
"Have a nice day." He spoke without much feeling as yet another customer passed through.
What baffled John was the couples who had no talents, no similarities and yet still had a family that grew and accomplished things. It almost seemed like if a person didn't have talent then they were supposed to work dead end jobs, find another person who had no talent, mate, and then have kids and get those kids to accomplish feats that they couldn't do themselves.
The harsh reality of that was that it still meant that people with no talent merely lived to give to others and that those others were supposed to be the special ones. Was that really the truth? It was like finding out that destiny was real and that he was destined to do nothing.
John watched as a fancy looking car pulled up to the store. Looking through the windows he could barely see who was stepping out of the car as thoughts raced through his mind. Was this the part when the girl of his dreams walked through the door? Was he going to casually flirt with some famous singer or actress who would then give him her number and then he would live happily ever after, finally somebody special?
John could feel his heart pounding against his chest as the door opened, the bell ringing overhead. It was as though he were in a movie. She was just a little bit shorter than him, about five seven with long blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Her figure was so perfect he was sure he was about to exchange words with a super model. She wore tight blue jeans, a red blouse that revealed just enough to send shivers all up and down his spine.
His boring brown eyes followed the woman around the store as she grabbed a couple of bottles of soda and some chips he didn't care to think about. It was as though she were walking in slow motion, time slowing down so he could savour every slight movement. By the time the woman reached the counter he was sure a full day had passed.
"Uh... hello.. can I buy these please?" John snapped out of his trance at the sound of his love's voice. She was so completely and utterly beautiful he was sure he was going to mess this up.
"Uh... yeah sorry." His voice quavered, sliding the objects of her desire towards him and scanning them all in quick succession. What was he supposed to say.
"Uh.. do you.." John smiled weakly."That'll be ten dollars and twelve scents." He watched a slender hand slide exact change his way. "Thanks." She grabbed her items and walked out the door without another glance.
John could feel his heart breaking in half. That was his chance. He was supposed to get the girl. Should he run out there and ask for her number? No, she was pulling out now, his chance was slipping away, and then it was gone.
John Anderson was still normal.