Sudden Silence

He was used to a lot of silences. 

What wannabe comedian isn’t used to the crickets when a joke doesn’t land? The awkward silence full of shifting eyes and shifting feet. The bored eyes staring as if he is a stain on the sidewalk. Something to look at and step over, but not worth a second thought. He brought the wrong material for the wrong crowd. At least that awkward silence ends with either a sympathetic chuckle or a cleared throat. 

There is that fun little silence when his parents ask if he is finally going to get a real job. That one is just full of weariness from both parties. A tiring routine that wasn’t funny the first time, but has to happen every time. He just dreams of the day when he can fill that silence with an emphatic “THIS IS MY REAL JOB”. Until then, there is just the painful silence filled with ticking clocks and disappointed sighs.

There is the big sad silence of his apartment when he locks the door at the end of the day. No joyful pet. He can’t afford those. No busy family. They live across the state and he can only have so many of those fun conversations. No encouraging friends. They grew up, moved on and got “real jobs.” No laughing girlfriend. She left. No need for counting sheep when he can drift off to all the faults she had. Or he had. Doesn’t matter. The lonely silence is deafening.

A particularly pointed silence follows him when he tries to ask for an extension on repaying his loans. From the bank to the pawn shop, he always promises it will be the last time, and they hit him with the sound of sheer disbelief. Scratching pens, tapping fingers, unfriendly glares. Calculators, computers, and old-fashioned ledgers out to get him every time. Nothing he can do but accept the judgment in silence.

But the silence that hit him the hardest is the sudden one. The one he doesn’t anticipate before it arrives. The quick little wheeze and then it's gone. Tank’s on E. He meant to put another three gallons in the tank yesterday but he forgot. He rests his forehead on his steering wheel. Is this it? Is this a metaphor for his life? Out of fuel and out of gas?

No. 

A quick prayer and he hits the ignition. The brave little Mazda coughs and whines and wheezes back to life. There are still a few drops in the system and he is not done yet. Gas station is within sight, and if he hurries, he can still get to the comedy club with seconds to spare.