Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: SLOTH (indolence; laziness) (01/29/15)
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TITLE: The Lament of the Man in Recliner #1 | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jennifer Champion
02/03/15 -
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“Are you going to take out the trash or wait until it grows legs and takes itself out?” My wife’s voice trails through the house and into my head.
“Have you looked outside at the yard lately? Our yard is the worst in the neighborhood! I’m ashamed to even go outside.” She continues to belittle me. Her voice is now a tornado causing my manhood to swirl to destruction.
She soon appears in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Her head is cocked sideways and she is giving me that look of hers. It says, “I don’t care about you. I don’t care that you were laid off from a job you loved and worked at for over twenty years. I don’t care that you broke your back in three places when you fell from that scaffold. I don’t care that you worked overtime all those years just so I could stay at home with kids. I don’t care about you anymore.” Yep, that’s the look.
I used to argue with her but it is pointless. Now, I have given up and I don’t care either. She doesn’t understand how bad I feel physically. She doesn’t understand how far gone I am mentally now. I am not a real man anymore. I can’t work. I can’t satisfy her. I can’t do anything.
“I’m going to the grocery store. When I come back, I expect to see the trash taken out at least. Good grief, I’ve already raised three kids now I have to raise another. You’re pathetic.” She’s right. I am pathetic.
Once I know she is gone, I get my keys and leave the house. The coupon I saw in the paper stated all recliners today are fifty percent off. That is my kind of deal. My wife, of course, will never let me hear the end of it but it’s worth it. The drive to the furniture store takes about fifteen minutes. Along the way I spot a man cutting his grass and another painting the shutters on his house. People everywhere are outside enjoying the beautiful day.
As soon as I enter the furniture store, I see the recliner I want to buy. It’s the first in a row of several on display and is extra wide to accommodate my ever growing large frame. I sit down in it and realize it is made of the softest leather I’ve ever felt. I twist and turn to find the perfect position for relaxing. Then, I see the saleswoman. She is heading my way. She is not my wife but she has that same look on her face except hers is telling me, “You are fat and lazy. I hope you buy that recliner so I don’t have to clean it.”
“Hi!” She says, all bubbly. Maybe I am wrong about her.
“Can I go ahead and ring it? It’s perfect for you!” I hand her my credit card and ask about delivery.
Her name is Kate. She is about my age and after some discussion I discover we graduated from the same high school. She is stunning really; auburn hair, hazel eyes, and a smile that makes me want to smile back. We talk for over an hour after she rings up the recliner. She even comments how it’s wide enough for two people and sits down with me to demonstrate. Buying this recliner today is just the first step in a long relationship with Kate. We exchange phone numbers before I head back home. The wife will be there soon.
“You cut the grass, took out the trash, and fixed the kitchen sink? It’s about time.” My wife never ceases to amaze me. She can’t see how her words cut through me. She doesn’t understand how lazy we have both become in our relationship. There is no fire. We are just smoldering and waiting to die out.
Our house is so depressing. It sucks the life out of me. I have no hope here and without hope, I have become the lethargic, lazy man my wife has grown to despise.
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