excerpt: you look like you must be a disappointment to your parents (from never walk alone.)

Pictured above: my night light (left), me at work captured on 35mm film (right)

[COMMUNIST: “You look like you must be a disappointment to your parents.”]

What the fuck?
I look up to see this Asian dude staring at me
He’s– like in his thirties or something,
And dressed like a communist in a way I could only describe as North Korean schoolboy, Minus his pierced right ear, with a stud that looks infected.
He’s wobbly, barely standing up straight,
I can see the crooked tracks in the snow behind him from the way he stumbled across the road.
But his eyes are focused on me with precision.
I’m like, “What?”
And he repeats himself,

[COMMUNIST: “You look like you must be a disappointment to your parents, How do you cope with that?”]

Should I hit him?
I decide it’s not worth engaging,
I shrug, take a last drag of my cigarette and drop it; but before I can go back inside he says:

[COMMUNIST: “I did everything my parents wanted me to do. And the other day they told me they were proud of me.
And I never felt more empty in my life hearing them say that. I did what I was told.
I make lots of money and I take care of my parents. They told me I was a good son. But it made me feel so empty so I left and came to Montreal to live my own life.”]

“How’s that going for you?” I ask.
He looks afraid.
And I am too fucking benevolent for my own good.
“Moving to Montreal doesn’t fill the void,” I told him, “and you should know, if you’re gonna go from doing everything your parents wanted you to do, to doing everything they don’t want you to do, they’re still running your life, aren’t they?”
And tears start to well in his eyes. Ah—shit.
I didn’t sign up for this

An excerpt from the stage play Never Walk Alone.