Everything in Samuel McArthur's life had been chosen for him. His entire existence was a dull reflection of what his parents, his grandparents and his so-called friends wanted or expected from him. When Samuel was five his father looked at him fiercely and said in his usual cold and harsh tone: "Son always remember that in life the key to success is obedience".
Of course, at the time little Samy did not make much of his father's words. On this very night 70 years later, Samuel McArthur was sitting in Phillies Bar just around the corner from his house. He was roaring drunk and in his dizzy and exhausted mind he repeatedly heard his father's words "The key to success is obedience, obedience, the key to succe...".
It was late.
The barkeeper seemed to be annoyed by Samuel's presence. He was sweating through his white apron and constantly glancing at his watch, impatiently waiting for it to be midnight so that he could retire from his shift. Samuel did not want to leave. He had to wait until 11:43.
He began seeing everything blurry.
Samuel knew that he was far too drunk and should be heading home, but he did not care. He had to wait. Samuel liked not being in control, the feeling of not caring about what was going on around him, not having to succumb to anyone's expectations. Even if it was just for one night.
Samuel saw his entire life whizzing through his mind, he heard his mother's penetrant voice telling him that going to the Sorbonne was unacceptable and that he was to pursue his family's tradition of going to Yale. He heard his grandfather ordering him to take his place in the family business and he heard his wife Gloria scolding him for being late to the annual McArthur Christmas foundation.
He felt nauseous, his head was spinning, and he felt his pulse weaken.
He hated everyone in his life. He loathed that he never had the guts to stand up to anyone. He hated his job, he hated his penthouse on Madison Avenue, the hated his money and the abundance that he had of it. He loathed it all. Yet what he hated most was himself.
He felt a shooting pain in his heart and thought that any minute now he could fall dead on the floor. But he could not die just yet. He had to wait until 11:43. He did not care if he lost everything by the end of the night as long as he got to wait until 11:43
He blankly stared at his glass of scotch. He could not remember how many he had. He stopped counting after the fourth glass. Just then he realized that he and the barkeeper were not the only ones at Phillies that night. Sitting right across from him was a couple that Samuel recalled seeing somewhere amid the dozens of dinners and galas he was forced to attend every week, because it was expected from him. He did not have the slightest intention of talking to them and continued to act as if they were not there.
He continued staring at his glass for a while until the barkeeper looked at him in a concerned way and asked: "Sir is everything alright?" Samuel looked up to him for a second and glanced at his piercing blue eyes.
Samuel thought for a second and then grinned. He mumbled in a sarcastic way: "Is everything alright?" His head began to spin faster "Oh everything is just fine pal" He could barely speak by how wasted he was. "In fact, I've never felt better." He paused and then continued "You know what. I'm going to... I'm going to tell you something".
It was 11:35.
The barkeeper looked at him in a bewildered way. He was reluctant to throw him out his bar as he was afraid of what might happen to him alone on the street. Samuel gathered himself and began "You know how peasants like you and your friends all want to be like me. A business man with a shit ton of cash, a pent house, a trophy wife and a bunch of snobbish friends". He drank the last bit of scotch from his glass and continued "Well let me tell you, it's all bullshit, pure fucking bullshit." The couple got up from their chairs and decided to leave.
Samuel felt like throwing up. The barkeeper's white apron was soaked in sweat. He felt like getting violent with this drunk snob but he knew that it was useless.
Samuel got up and walked around the bar barely being able to keep his balance.
"People believe that I have everything, but I HAVE NOTHING!" He shouted. "You would think that going to fancy prep schools, exclusive parties, Yale and driving a Rolls Royce will make you happy." He sat down again. "But let me tell you, it doesn't. Despite everything I have I feel empty and worthless"
The barkeeper was unsure whether to take anything serious that was coming from this delusional man's mouth. The only thing he dared to say to him was "Sir, I think you should go home"
Samuel laughed. "Home? I feel more at home here or under a bridge than in my own house."
"And you know what is really funny? People like you spend their entire lives striving to become like me. Well you know what? All I ever wanted in life was to be like you. Your existence is pathetic but at least you don't constantly have people looking down on you, pressuring you, excitedly waiting for you to fail. If there is one word that I loathe more than anything it is expectations."
It was 11:42.
"In my life I did everything wrong. I have never made a single decision that reflected what I wanted. I have never said or done something because I wanted to. I am exactly what my family expects me to be. To them I am brilliant, the perfectly obedient son. To me, I am a useless disappointment."
The clock struck 11:43.
Samuel sat down again, he could feel tears gathering in his eyes. "At this very moment, 45 years ago, I was brought to life. I was given an opportunity. Back then I still could have become whatever I wanted. Back then I still had all my life ahead of me. A life of my desire. Oh, what I would do to turn the clock back around and restart. Every year this is the only moment I look forward to, the moment where I imagine I am a newly born baby and I have a happy life in front of me."
YOU ARE READING
11:43
Short StoryA short story that gives an insight into the sad and regretful life of a wealthy elderly man.