We're Nothing Like You

There’s a man on the corner, with his hands holding tightly to his hat, so it won’t blow away.

The wind was fierce that day, causing trees to bend every which way and birds to fly off their course. Eric Eckers was in his prime, smart, handsome, and working in the exact wrong place. Eric stood on the street corner waiting for the light to change, pressing his hat tightly against his skull so the wind couldn’t take it from him. Eric was late for work as it was, the last thing he needed was for his hat to escape, only for him to have to chase it down at least a few city blocks.

With a girl, with her hands in her pockets holding tightly to her money, so she won’t blow it today.

Anna Patterson walked up next to Eric; she couldn’t be much older than twenty by the looks of her. A Burberry scarf embraced Anna’s neck and she had a Chanel purse resting on her shoulder. Anna’s hands were stuffed in her pockets, the red material of her gloves poking out only slightly. Anna glanced over at Eric, who immediately stopped staring at the young woman once he’d been noticed. The light changed, and they crossed the street together, Eric going right, and Anna going left, once they’d crossed.

It’s all the same…everyday.

Eric pushed through the large glass doors of his dead-end job, dreading the pathetic cubicle he inhabited from 9am to 5pm Monday through Friday, and sometimes Saturdays. Eric’s boss yelled at him for neglecting to attend the all company meeting that morning, and his secretary told him that he had six messages from his angry wife, who was apparently now his ex-wife. Eric sighed and got to work, filling out charts and typing out papers, all of it completely useless.

Anna strutted into Bloomingdale’s, the place at which she worked, and carefully pinned her nametag to her light pink cardigan. Anna noted that the new line of Hermes scarves had arrived, as well as new Juicy Couture clothes. Anna shoved her money further in her pocket, and turned to an elderly woman who needed help with shoes.

When he gets home from work, there’s his children, already in bed without seeing his face today.

Eric had worked late, against his better judgment, and he walked in the door at 10:30pm. Eric’s obnoxiously beautiful ex-girlfriend, Cassie, stood up and handed him a piece of paper. Eric read the note, which entailed all of the reasons why Cassie was leaving him, and sunk into a chair at their small table in the kitchen. The door slammed shut, and all traces of Cassie were gone from the house. Eric trudged up the stairs, each step seemingly more difficult, until he reached the baby blue room in the house. Eric and Cassie had a boy, Kyle. Kyle was fast asleep, his alarm clock set for school the next morning. Eric kissed his boy on the forehead, and retired to his room.

And the girl, with empty pockets, spent her money; she might as well just throw her wallet in the fireplace.

Anna arrived at her apartment, arms loaded down with shopping bags, and her last paycheck dispersed throughout the cash registers of stores all over Chicago. Anna dragged the bags into her room and hung up her new purchases, clogging her already full closet even more. Anna lived alone, her friends were all in LA, and no boy she’d met wanted to be with such a materialistic girl as herself. Anna sunk onto her bed, picking up the only thing that meant something to her anymore beside her family and her clothes, her small Pomeranian. The wind continued its rage outside, and Anna gradually fell asleep.

And she is the L and he is the O for us, Liars Out there.

And she is the V and he is the E for the Violence in Everyone.

And we might spell you…but we’re nothing like you.

“I need all these things…” Anna told herself the following morning. “I look good. I deserve all of the wonderful clothes and accessories I own, I’m spending my money wisely.”

“I don’t need Cassie” Eric grumbled to himself the following morning, storming into his son’s room to shut off his blaring alarm. “I can take care of myself, and my kid. I can handle my own life.” Eric roared at his child to wake up, and Kyle quickly got dressed, running out of the house with his backpack to escape the punishment that surely awaited him when he got home.

When his kids grow up old and have children of their own, they swear they’ll never wear the same size hat their father wears.

Eric stood on the street corner, waiting for the light to change. Ahead of him, already across the street, was his son, Kyle. Kyle was in a high paying job, and he almost completely ignored his father altogether. “I will never end up like him” Kyle thought to himself as he marched into the law firm he worked at. Kyle planned to kick his father out of his house the next day, where he’d been living, because of his debts, for ten years.

And the girl, now a woman, says she’s happy, and thanks God for jewelry and Single Millionaires.

Anna darted around her apartment, which she shared with her friend Melanie. The apartment was larger, and so was her closet. Anna finally found the pair of earrings she’d been looking for, and put them on while facing her image in the mirror. That night, Anna and Melanie were to go to an event held by the owner of a large estate nearby, where she knew she would find rich young men who would be willing to die to have her in their arms. “Thank God for single millionaires” Anna muttered to herself as she doused herself in Chanel perfume.

And she is the H and he is the O for us, Humble Orphans.

And she is the P and he is the E for Potential in Everyone.

Owen Eckers stood on the street corner, waiting for the light to change. Owen was on his way to his first day at work, and he had just gotten back from his father Kyle’s funeral. It was a rather dull affair; Owen had never cared for his father much. Kyle had been too much like his father, Eric. The light changed presently, and Owen crossed the street to the record company he worked for.

Holly Patterson sat down behind her large desk at the record company she worked for. Holly had to get a job to support her mother’s divorce and her own life; thankfully she hadn’t inherited her mother’s love of shopping, so it was easy enough. Music was something she loved, and even her delusional mother could see that Holly truly had potential in the industry.

Owen walked up to Holly’s desk and took a deep breath before introducing himself. “Hello, my name is Owen, and today is my first day working here.” Holly chuckled and rose from her seat, smoothing out her bright green skirt. “Hi Owen, I’m Holly.” Their eyes connected, and they knew that they wouldn’t be like their parents. They wouldn’t lie, or hurt. They would be, in fact, nothing like their parents.

“Nice to meet you Holly” Owen said, still grasping Holly’s hand firmly. “Would you mind showing me around a little bit?” Holly shook her head and they proceeded to tour the entire building, as well as most of Chicago, together, their hands remaining intertwined.

And we might spell you…but we’re nothing like you.