We were driving on Ridge Road or some long, retail strip. It was late at night. It was kind of bad weather. We passed a mattress store. The place was lit up like a night game – it had huge windows – nothing but windows – to showcase the inventory. Inside was a field of beds, nothing but beds from end to end, front to back. Up in front, near the center, sitting stock still like a statue – was the lone salesman. Sitting on the bed like a travelling salesman who just checked into a hotel room – lonely, dejected, empty, far from home. There wasn’t another soul in the store. I wanted to howl – to let out a long wail in solidarity for this guy – all I could imagine – from my brief glimpse as the car zoomed past him – was that he deserved a break. There he was, trying to make a living. Not a soul in his store. I knew he had to be hurting. I knew business could not be booming, I knew it was not just a fluke – that this was his night, night after night.
The image seared itself into my brain – it was a great moment – not because it was cool, but because it meant something deep and dark and painful. It symbolized our fragile state. It crystallized our need for one another.
I think of that scene, of that salesman, and know that there are many people hoping for better days. But better days or not, we have to make the best of what we’ve got.
