story time

I spent the night in the city park. Sure, it's not a five-star hotel resort, and sure, the nights in the park are cold and boy are they dark... but the park affords us hours of tranquil peace in which we can dream about what life could have been, should fortune have only chosen a different path for us.

We - that is, us lowly guys - aren't picky when it comes to sleeping accommodations. Essentially we just settle in for the evening wherever we wind up once the sun goes down. Next to the swings, underneath the slide, inside the sandbox... wherever, really. Considering where some of us wind up, the park is like the country club of us ill-fated nobodies. The silence goes undisturbed- well, aside from the occasional prostitute that click-clacks by in her 5-inch platform heels in search of clientele. As long as they don't inadvertently step on us (the heels on those duds can inflict quite the blinding degree of pain), we coexist quite peacefully with society's godforsaken outcasts. Prostitutes, beggars, drug dealers, runaway teens...and us. We all have a common bond... a thread that unites us: people look down upon us. They forget us. We are, in every sense of the word, anonymous.

As the city's forgotten ones, we spend all day being walked on, kicked through the streets, thrown into puddles. For the love of God, if I had to tally up the number of times a sweater-wearing Yorkshire terrier has lifted its leg to shower me with its morning bowl of filtered water... well let's just say I don't have the fingers and toes to count that high. It's humiliating.

Today, I spent earliest moments of the morning enduring the kicking rage of a couple of ratty-haired school children whose parents, accompanying them to school while chattering away on their expensive cell phones, have clearly failed to provide an adequate upbringing. What ever happened to love and respect towards all of God's creations? Do you know what it's like to be kicked down the street, wind up in a puddle and lie there shocked and appalled as nobody says a word? Let's just say it's not an ego-booster.

Feeling particularly dejected following the morning's incident, I was presented with the unique opportunity - the opportunity we all wait and hope for - to even the score against the world's so-called "blessed" ones. It was going to be a victory for all of us... a symbolic event that would give us hope and change the future. Images flashed through my mind of me - little ole me - appearing in the history books, the encyclopedias, the classroom posters. They would interview me in Time Magazine about my inspiring rags to riches story, and I'd speak eloquently about the French Revolution, Rosa Parks' quest for equality through simple acts and my dream of eradicating social stratification around the globe.

I saw her coming nearly a block away. She was absolutely stunning. I hated her confident stride, her elegant air and her designer busines suit. I conveniently got in her way. Well, that is, I conveniently got in the way of one of her expensive European stiletto heels. She tripped and fell to her knees. She looked down at me and scowled before glancing around and smiling awkwardly at those who caught her in her fall from grace. I had done it! I was already envisioning my agenda booked solid with speaking engagements, commencement addresses, invitations to black-tie dinners...

But then, she stood up brushing herself off and laughing, commenting to the onlookers about how silly it was of her to have worn her brand new shoes without getting used to them first. Young women who had paused mid-step when they caught the flailing arms out of the corners of their eyes were now sharing a laugh... but they weren't laughing at her, they were chuckling and sympathizing with her!

"Oh why that happened to me just yesterday!"
"You know how us women are with our shoes..."
"Where DID you get those shoes? They're adorable."

No, this couldn't be!!! The young woman flipped her hair, caught her reflection in the store window, and smiled - her chin up and her shoulders back - before continuing along her way... leaving me there, forgotten and defeated, in the middle of the sidewalk.

Such is the frustrated life of a pebble.