Awaiting Service

You’ve wondered how different literally everything could be, haven’t you? If yes, I assure you you’re not the only one.

He, our hero does this quite a lot, almost routinely infact. What sort of a routine is that? An occupying one, to say the least.

 Even the most mundane activities make him ask himself all sorts of questions.

“How different would shopping be?” he begins to ask “If I was a superhero”. A superhero is an easy enough theme to work with but an impossible enough goal to actually reach in real life, which is perfect for an unreal world.

 “There would be a very serious hostage situation. What sort of a hostage situation isn’t serious though?”- Ok that’s something he can work on, this is only a thought process, errors like this are expected.” A man wearing an extravagant armoured costume would be followed by anonymous people in black” he thinks to himself, he’s obviously excited at this idea. “Then I’d run through the automatic doors with purpose, and braving that familiar superhero look where it looks like I’m wearing pants over my trousers” he continues playing this scenario out “There’ll be no hostages on my watch” he imagines himself saying and then, to add to the fantasy “If there were hostages on my watch I wouldn’t be able to see the hands to know what the time was”. He then imagines himself pulling some mighty fine fighting moves that anyone else would struggle to do with such grace and punctuality. He certainly can’t pull of moves like this himself, he won’t even try. Defeating the villain subduing the hostage situation and promptly leaving the shop after an improvised motivational message.

“But this isn’t the only possibility” he realises “What if I was a gangster instead”. He imagines himself calmly and charismatically walking into the supermarket suited up in a black that is too dark to appear on any colour charts. The white is too bright to appear on colour charts and the red of his immaculately prepared tie is so rich it owns at least one mansion. He will, of course, be followed by two similarly attired and physically imposing brutes, which in this world he has no need to be intimidated by. He is able to move a few places in the line, the other customers both admire and fear him. Or, atleast their intense feelings of fear makes them pretend to admire him. Except for one of course, one who decides he doesn’t want to move just for him. “Why should I give up my place in line?” this man asks in a voice that suggests a lack of testosterone, almost falsetto. “Just because you’re a big shot crime lord? Unlike you I’ll be paying money”, this does not go down well with our imaginary gangster friend. “Gents, take him away” he casually comments in baritone, just before clicking his fingers. The click is isolated from other sounds and music to his ears. His intimidating goons drag the confrontational customer outside. He confidently strides to the front of the line “it’s all been paid for honey” says the glamorous cashier before sharing a passionate kiss. Has the kiss also been paid for? He can’t decide, but this alternative version of himself is after all a criminal, he does not put it past him to dabble in these fields.

“I’m not gonna end my fantasy here!” he says to himself (quietly of course, the world doesn’t need to know). He then begins to see a scene through the eyes of a cowboy. He is in a saloon calmly entering, not trusting anyone else, barely trusting himself if that’s even possible. The inhabitants draw their guns simultaneously and seemingly out of thin air. But he’s still too quick, isn’t the title fastest hand in the west, a bit of a clue for them?.

They fall to the floor after being shot for their sins but as in most westerns we’re not actually shown if their dead, we’re just assuming so. He shares a brief passionate embrace with the female bar worker before leaving on his trusted steed into the distance. “I love his handsomeness his mystery and everything else about him. He’s a real hero” she says to herself. Obviously, he is really improvising this last bit given more time he could reduce the clichés- but there is no time for more time.

He does worry slightly (as do we) about the fact that in all 3 of his fantasies he does inflict harm on people.  True that in 2 of his fantasies these actions appear to be for good ends as far as he can tell, but violence violence is violence as long as it’s… violent. He doesn’t know what this means (do we?). Is this some sort of warning he should be listening to? Or does this just come with improv thinking? .It’s probably all happened before, but he typically never remembers what he’s imagined.

He’s had enough fantasy for the day, or at least for this particular moment. Back to reality now: “Need any help with your packing sir” the cashier asks in a robotic tone that’s been engineered with positive feeling. After this, she smiles at him in the most endearing way anyone possibly could. “What could this mean?” he wonders.