At a Loss

The man had a considerate wife, a son who lived with his ex-wife in a different city, and an irregular job he had been doing for some time now. It was perfect when he got home on Fridays for his wife had done shopping and was already at home cooking his favorite dish. He liked eating till he was full and he usually ate his meals in a hurry. From time to time his wife would stop him and say: Eat slowly, man, nobody is taking away your food. You are no more the young boy envious of his brothers’ food.

This made him think of his mother and how she praised him for eating fast by saying: Son, eating fast in times of adversity is heroic and commendable in you. You wouldn’t have any problems if you were a soldier. He even used to compete with his brothers on eating food faster. People admired his regular white teeth and he had now a good reason to be kind to his teeth by swallowing his food. But then he remembered a lady saying: if I want to find out how good a man is in bed I will go out eating with him first and if he eats his food in a hurry I’ll keep away from him.

When he finished eating he knew his wife would say again: don’t worry I’ll do the dishes. He would then move his swollen frame with difficulty, go upstairs to his room and switch on his digital and analogue equipment. He had at least two or three TVs in his room in addition to his many computers and other devices. His wife sometimes complained that he was the reason for the high electricity bill. But he was now tired and it was only a matter of minutes before he fell asleep in his armchair for a while. By the time he went to bed his wife was fast asleep. He would then take a book or two with him in the hope of reading for some time but he could seldom survive half an hour. Sometimes, even within a couple of minutes he was dead to the world.

He always ate the same food, drank the same drinks and wore the same clothes. They lived in a terraced house. He started his work in the afternoons or in the evenings but sometimes he even worked on Friday evenings and Saturdays. On Monday mornings he would then repeat what he often told his wife: Well, another week of having a shower, making the beds, drinking coffee and working, shopping and watching TV has started. How long do you think this is going to continue?

Occasionally when he came back home late and before turning the key in the door he felt a shudder: This evening everything will be different. Nobody will be at home to wait for me. There will be no food, no tea, no TV. But when he opened the door he found everything was the same. After changing into his casual clothes he went up to his wife and said: Thanks God you are still alive. He then would sigh and say: You know if I can’t find peace at work I then hope to find peace with you as my partner if not at least at what I call my home if I could only ignore the terrible neighbors.

He had to work again on the following Saturday and when he came back home completely exhausted his wife had already prepared his favorite dish. She felt sorry for him and knew he depended on her so much. This time he forgot to change into his casual clothes and sat down in his underwear. He dug in as usual but was unable to hide his unease. There was something troubling him. What was it? His wife was surprised for he ate his food slowly. They were eating in the dining room but his gaze was fixed on the street opposite. Every time somebody passed by, he raised his head as if he was expecting somebody. He then saw a man stop a woman and get into an argument. Suddenly the man took off a shoe and started hitting the woman on her head. The woman fell down unconscious.

He couldn’t wait longer, got up and stormed out of the house. His wife ran after him shouting: Come back, you can’t go out like that in your underwear but it was too late; he was looking everywhere but the woman and the man were gone. People looked oddly at him and asked: Have you lost something, Sir? He said: Yes, I saw a man hitting a woman with his shoes. Where have they gone? A man hitting a woman with his shoes on the street? People laughed. His wife shouted to him to come inside but he didn’t move. She went outside and dragged him inside saying: you will make a fool of yourself. But he was inconsolable and said: I saw a man hitting a poor woman with his shoes. Wonder where they went to. You know it isn’t fun to be a poor woman in this damned country.

Jamshid
Bremen, 28 May 2008

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