Daddy's Boy

Failing

Wrong. I stared at the burnt mess in the pan and sighed. Picking up my phone, I dialed a restaurant from my contacts list and ordered without even looking at the menu. It wasn't that I couldn't afford to eat out, I was just so tired of the same old restaurant delivery food. What I wouldn't give for a home made meal. Did I even know what that was? Maybe not. I had been eating from chefs all my life. I had no idea what people meant by a dish made with love.

I tossed the pan in the garbage and considered tossing the cookbook with it. I hesitated though and put it back on the stand next to the gigantic stove. One day I hoped I could figure it out, or perhaps have someone cook for me? Maybe that was a more realistic goal. I thought about what I wanted in a partner then. Nothing came to mind.

The door call came through and I picked up long enough to have them sent through. Henry gave me hell over the phone for having delivery again. I just laughed. We both knew I couldn't cook. My neighbour had complained once already for my smoke alarm going off when I tried. I answered the door with my wallet and swiped my card in the machine the delivery guy held.

He looked at me sympathetically and I blushed. Last thing I needed was some guy thinking I was a hopeless cause. I was, but I didn't want him thinking it. That just made it worse somehow. I shut the door and went into the living room where the tv was blaring. I wasn't watching it, I just needed the noise. I opened up the containers and stared at the gourmet dish.

I should have been happy. That's what everyone kept telling me. I was smart, handsome, rich and had everything going for me. That was supposed to make me happy. It didn't. I was lonely, bored, and could have jumped off my balcony any day without feeling an ounce of regret or worry that someone might miss me. I was sad. All the time. What was I missing? Companionship? That elusive thing I'd heard of called love?

I absently ate my meal at the coffee table, staring into space. I needed to find something to do with myself. I needed to find someone to spend time with. I thought about my coworkers and their desire to go to those noisy bars. I grimaced at the thought of the loud music, crammed bodies and greasy foods with alcohol. Not my taste at all.

I needed and wanted more laid back friends. People who liked coffee shops and quiet parks. Perhaps my looks and money attracted the wrong sort of people. Maybe I should just hang out in those places more to find people who did. Okay. I had a plan now. I munched my food with purpose as I browsed online for quaint little coffee shops.

*

The coffee shops were a bust. I attracted these strange women who talked a mile a minute and flirted so badly with me that I stopped going only a week later. I tried a few places and the same executive hunters with bad attitudes seemed to approach me. I really just wanted to sit quietly with a cup of hot chocolate and chat with the regulars. One lady bought me a coffee, ew. I gave it to a homeless man on my way back to the office and he seemed grateful.

I tried going to a nearby gym to work out one day, to see if that might be a better place to look. All I found were stares and raised eyebrows. The women all wore makeup to run and the men spent most of their time showing off in front of the mirrors. I mean I liked the view but the atmosphere was all wrong in this place. The workout rooms at my condo were sparse of people when I went most days, but I preferred the company there in comparison.

I tried running in the park but found out I'm allergic to the flowers. I tried joining a class at the local family fitness centre and got ignored by all the regulars. I was running out of options and running out of time it felt like. I just needed a smile. I needed help connecting. I needed someone to spend time with me and figure this whole "socialising" thing out. I mean, I sucked at it. I had a home, take out food, a laundromat, and acquaintances I couldn't relate to.

I was failing at life.