Expectation

His name was Thomas, but we all called him Seth. The reasons for this are another story entirely. He was a man of tall stature. It wasn't so much that he was tall, but his demeanor was that of some one who had, in his experience, spent a lot of time looking down at people. In saying this, I do not mean he looked down upon people condescending; but rather, in a compassionate way a caring and attending father might approach his young son during the course of his upbringing.

Thomas had recently been let go by his employer. He held a pretty prestigious position that the company could no longer afford. They may have decided to keep him on with lower pay; something he would have considered doing. However, his fiancée had just passed, and he had little left in him. As it was, they advised him to look for work elsewhere; being his credentials were what they were, his chances were better if he took this as an opportunity to clear his mind a bit and start fresh. He was by no means a recluse, but everyone knew about Alisa's passing, and what he didn't say said more than what he was willing to say about it. I omit the details my self. It is enough to know that Seth had suffered a great loss

A few days after Seth was let go, I received a call from him while on my lunch. He invited me out to a night of drinking. I had work early the next day, but Seth wanted to, 'celebrate', losing his job. I managed to pull a few strings and switched shifts with some one. I knew a little place; it was a bit of a distance for both of us, but it was more of a place to drink, than a bar scene to become a part of. The lighting was just right, and nobody but the bar tender would pay us any mind, if there were any but a few people there at all. I got home from work, showered, and dressed a bit sharp. I called Seth and told him where to meet me and to dress likewise.

When we arrived he was wearing an old rugged baseball cap. I can't remember what was on it, except that it looked odd, being that he was dressed quite well, except for that one piece, and you have to understand, I knew Seth, but I didn't really know Seth. I had a feeling that tonight I might find out who he was. He ordered us a round of 6 shots, 3 for the each of us, and a couple of beers a piece. I suppose I've drank far more before, and far less, it seemed fitting enough. We hadn't but barely started talking about anything in particular as our drinks were being set up in front of us. As soon his shots were set out in front of him, he knocked them back one after the other. The bar tender looked at me, then looked at him, and then back at me. I sort of nodded to him, as if to say, "I got this". He seemed to understand and went about his business. Seth turned to me, beer in hand, and took a sip, "Ahhhhh. So Charles, how you doin'? Doing well?"

We went back and forth a bit after that. I took the drinking a bit slower than he did. I expected to do a lot of listening that night, but some how I did most of the talking. It wasn't the sort of talking one does with a man who just lost the love of his life and his career. I felt as if Seth could see something in me that I didn't even know was there and was trying to pull it out. Trying to sort of piece together an externality to compensate for what he knew he couldn't fix about him self, his situation. Perhaps he was just avoiding his own issues, but it really seemed like some how he had already dealt with it, that it was done, over with, and there was no going back. Strange how some people are wounded and spend their whole life limping, while others' lives are completely obliterated and they just get back up as if they stumbled for a second and keep walking on as usual; but, as I said before, Seth was a man of tall stature. I wasn't short by any means, but I wasn't as tall as Seth.

Several hours went by and Seth was starting to sober up. I hadn't even started on my second beer. He gave me a pat on the back and tipped the bar keep. I got up to walk out and he stopped, quick like, looked at me, looked at the beer, and then looked back at me and smiled. He grabbed the beer I hadn't started on and took it with him. We went walking for a bit. We walked a few miles actually, just going in circles, he started to open up a bit. Then sun started creeping up and we started heading for our cars. As we opened our car doors he stopped and turned towards me, "Charles, I want you to know some thing. Some times we aren't what we expect of our selves, and some times what we expect of ourselves is not what we are." I nodded back, waved, and hopped in my car and drove off.

It would be quite some time before I ever heard from Seth again, but a lot changed for me during that time. 2 years later I received a letter from him, he had found some work out of the country. Apparently, he had just gotten his new citizenship and had met a nice young woman. He told me a bit about her and how he still thought of Alisa from time to time. I never heard from Seth again after that, but I always remember what he said the last time I spoke with him.