No One's Fault In Particular

"Never take life seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyways.
Anonymous

"Nothing can bring you happiness but yourself.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
American lecturer, poet, and essayist, 1803-1882

"Life is too important to be taken seriously.
Oscar Wilde
Irish poet, dramatist, novelist and critic, 1854-1900

There he sat at his computer, ready to begin another day. Coffee at his side, nursing a king size headache from the previous night's little party, and the day before, spent scouring the internet, searching in vain for his potential significant other went wasted, as did all the others that came and went before it.
Is there anyone out there I can relate to?, was the only thought at present in his mind. "God knows I never meet anybody, he mumbled to himself. "Work'in on this damn computer all day, I never even get to see the sun anymore. You know what Tad, he continued. "You're go'in out today even if it kills you. I'll walk, said Tad Walton to himself, as he stood up from his computer desk to make a point and create a flawless argument with himself that couldn't be denied. "I'll walk, and I'll like it, and I'll meet somebody today! A girl maybe... How's that! he declared. And with that bold gesture, Tad strode nervously to his front door, put on his spring coat, and took a major step in the direction of the great outdoors. How would the day greet him? he wondered, first putting his right foot on the small porch and then, with some great bold effort, his left foot came dragging up to meet the first one he planted. Shyly, and like a small boy, Tad stood there on his porch looking around. There were no cars rushing by on the small side street that ran in front of his home, thank God for small favors, and inch by inch, Tad made it down the three steps to ground level, praying as he moved that he'd meet up with no human obstacle blocking his way to freedom or otherwise, putting him in some kind of agony or mental pain. Tad was a true shut-in by nature, but some of the doctors who knew him speculated that he was only the outcome and result of his sociological environment. What woman bore him? Was the question even pertinent to his case? Did it make any difference? Wasn't Tad a child of each and every one of us? Who made Tad the drug abusing ball of nerves he was today? No one really knew the answer, and the easiest and most effective way a doctor could treat Tad's psychosis was to prescribe the young man medication and meet with him every three months or so, just to make sure he wasn't planning on killing himself, like so many others had done before him, in so many creative and desperate ways.
Slowly and carefully, Tad made his way to the garage where he opened up the door to his car and gently seated himself at the wheel. He was only on his way to the neighborhood park, roughly a two mile drive from his house, but to Tad, it may as well have been Mars.
"The city talks about amenities and improvements to the neighborhood, muttered Tad, barely moving his lips, afraid that someone might see him talking to himself as he drove along, "but why can't they locate these damn parks more conveniently? Why do I have to drive to the ends of the earth just to take a walk? It doesn't make any sense to me.
Just as Tad finished his sentence, he pulled up to the last stoplight before the park. Faintly, he heard someone in the car next to him talking out loud and looking in his direction. Rolling down the window on the passenger side, Tad thought this person might have something important to tell him, so he looked over his shoulder to ask the driver what was wrong.
"What's wrong? asked a very unkempt and tattooed young man in the broken down looking car next to Tad. "I'll tell you what's wrong you God-damn mother f_____! You're driving in the wrong lane that's what's wrong. Didn't you ever learn how to drive?
Looking as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing, Tad simply asked, "What's wrong with the lane I'm in? I was do'in fine till now.
"That's the fast lane dummy. You're in the fast lane!
"I didn't know there was a fast lane, replied Tad. "I thought the left lane was a passing lane.
"It's the FAST lane shithead, get out of it! remarked the tattooed stranger, and with that, he sped off as the light turned green at a speed well over the street limit, but sure of himself, and sure that he was right, he'd vented all the swear words he could possibly utter in four minutes on poor unsuspecting Tad.
"Sweet Jesus, said Tad aloud to himself. "I never heard anyone swear like that in my life. Was he crazy or what? Hey, he continued, "what's the big deal, so I'm in the left lane, so what. Besides, I gotta make a left turn here, said Tad, as he continued to stew over what had just happened. Finding an empty space at the park, he pulled in and continued to carry on a conversation with himself, clearly shaken up over his episode with the tattooed, cursing individual he'd just met.
Remaining in his car with the windows all the way up on this hot summer day, Tad hesitated to come out, for fear of getting involved in yet another strange confrontation.
"Where do these people find me? he asked himself. "Why am I always the one getting picked on, I can't understand it. Oh well, persisted Tad, "I came here to walk on this fine summer day, and that's just what I'm gonna do. Then finally, Tad reached for the handle on the inside of the car door and pulled against it. The sound of the single popping noise the mechanism made reverberated in Tad's mind like the barred door of a prison cell, and like an inmate who's been in prison so long that they've grown used to the confinement and safety of their tiny enclosure, the great expansive free world only intimidated and scared him. His paranoia getting the better of him, Tad's eyes focused only on the path in front of his feet that circled around the big park, and after a few hundred yards of walking along like this, he sensed eyes on his back, and instinctively turned his head around to locate the source. Oh my God! thought Tad, there's a girl behind me and she's catching up. I'll slow down a little, that's what I'll do. She might be nice, this could be my lucky brake. Little by little, the girl behind Tad got closer, and it wasn't long before he could make out the delicate features of her face, and the pretty color of her light red hair. She was walking at a rapid pace, and it was obvious that she was there for the exercise. She smiled at Tad as she walked up to him, and Tad cautiously took the opportunity to say hello as she passed.
"Hi, was all she said in return, but Tad thought it was a warm enough greeting and felt eager to follow it up with another comment.
"I can tell you're into exercise, he blurted out. "You sure walk fast. Come here often? he asked, as he strained to keep pace with her.
"Three days a week. How about you? You here often?
"I know I should be saying yes, but my job prevents me from getting outside as much as I'd like to, said Tad. "Seems like I'm chained to my computer all the time now.
"Oh yeah? she replied, seeming to show interest in Tad's answer. "What do you do?
"I'm a web page designer, said Tad, enthusiastically.
"Oh, Okay. Geek huh, she said, picking up speed in her gait now, and passing Tad up as if he were standing still.
"Hey, hold on a minute, protested Tad. "I'm not a geek, I just work at home that's all.
But the girl had begun to jog and was already so far out in front of Tad that he couldn't even be sure she'd heard his reply.
"Oh what's the use, he said aloud to himself. "Why don't I just give it up. I'm never gonna meet anyone. Feeling dejected now and angry at the world, Tad walked back to his car and slammed the door behind him. The day just seemed to get worse with each passing moment and Tad couldn't wait to get back to the comfort and safety of his house.
"Who's idea was it anyway to go take a walk, he continued. "I should'a known better. Me an my bright ideas.

When Tad arrived home, he was in a terrible state of mind. Slamming the front door closed behind him, he leaned his back up against it and closed his eyes. All he wanted to do now was to try to forget the events of the day, and he thought that if he didn't do something quickly to help ease his pain, he'd be ruminating over the past few hours for the rest of the day and on into the next.
"Booze, he said to himself. "Quick! To the bar. And before you could count to ten, Tad had ice in a tall water glass filled with scotch. With hands shaking and his mind racing out of control, he sat down in his favorite reclining chair to sip at the cold diluted whiskey. After a few minutes of nursing his drink, he was starting to feel a little better. He wondered for a moment where he'd left the Valium he bought over the internet and finally remembered it was in the bottom drawer of his night stand.
"Is ten milligrams gonna be enough? he said to himself, scratching his head in thought. "Maybe I outta take two? Yeah, two should do the trick. And without further hesitation, he downed the two pills with one big chug of his drink.
Now resting in his chair, still clutching his drink, he leaned his head against the soft cushioned surface of the back rest.
"That's better already, he said. "Shit, why do I have to go through this crap anyway. A crazy ass in a car, and as if that wasn't enough, I can't believe that witch in the park calling me a geek. I am not a geek, continued Tad, as he got up from his chair to walk over to a mirror he'd hung on the wall next to the front door. Looking at himself, he removed the thick lensed glasses from his face to examine himself more closely, and with more thorough introspection.
Hmmm, maybe I outta get contact lenses? he thought to himself. That might just do the trick. I bet the glasses are turning babes off. "It could just be as simple as that, he said aloud. "Yeah, that's the ticket. I'm gonna make an eye appointment right now! Off come the glasses. And with renewed vigor, Tad walked proudly to the phone and made an appointment to see the doctor on the following day.

"Ever wear contacts before? asked the optometrist.
"No, said Tad. "Never.
"Well, we're gonna take off those coke bottles you've been hanging on to and make you look like a movie star.
"You think so?
"I know so, replied the aged and spectacled Doctor Loman. "I've been at this for a long time now and rarely have I had a dissatisfied customer. Here, he continued, "lean your head back, I'll show you how to put these in. They're thirty day disposables, said the doctor, as he pulled Tad's eyelids open and put the contacts in position. "The lenses are very close to what we're making for you. Why don't you walk around in them tonight. Try to get used to them. Go out to a nightclub or something and have yourself a time. If I was your age I certainly would. How old are you anyway, if you don't mind my asking? You don't look a day over twenty-five.
"You hit the nail on the head Doc, I'm twenty-five, but I just can't seem to get girls to notice me.
"Give it a chance. You're still young yet. I know some guys who didn't get married until they were in their thirties. Some wait even longer. I bet they'll notice you tonight. Those thick glasses were hiding your face. Maybe some girls just felt intimidated by them, you never can tell.
"I guess, replied Tad. "I'll give it a whirl.
"That's the spirit. Keep me posted. When you come in next week to pick up your lenses, I'll bet you'll have met at least two interested gals.
"You really think so?
"I do, said the doctor.
When Doctor Loman left the room, Tad spent a few minutes inspecting himself in the mirror. "You know something, he was right, I do look better, he said to himself. "Look out world, here I come, he continued, as he opened the door of the examination room and walked out to the front desk to pay.
"What do you think? asked Tad, waiting on pins and needles for a reply from the optometrists good looking receptionist.
"Huh? About what? asked the young blonde haired girl.
"About these, said Tad, pointing to his eyes. "My new contacts. What do you think?
"Oh yeah, acknowledged the girl, feeling relieved now that she knew what Tad was talking about.
"The contacts. That's right, you weren't wearing them when you walked in were you. Hey, she went on, "they're a big improvement. Yes, definitely. I like them. Anyway, she said. "Your bill comes to two-hundred fifty dollars and seventy-three cents. How did you want to pay for that today?
"I'll write you a check, replied Tad, already feeling as dejected and insignificant as when he'd arrived.
I'm not gonna let every little thing get me down, thought Tad, on his way to his car. The receptionist is probably just not my type. I knew these things weren't gonna turn me into Rock Hudson, but I'm looking better now then I did before that's for sure. I'm gonna take the doctor's advice and head out to a local hotspot tonight. That's the ticket, yeah.
When Tad got home, he immediately went to his bar and reached for the scotch.
"Nothing wrong with a little bracer, he said. "Where'd I put that bag a pot anyway? Hmmm, it's here somewhere...I bet I left it in the fridge. Oops, lets not forget your anti-depressant now. One a day keeps the doctor away. Oh Lexapro, where-did-you-go? called Tad, as he made his way to the medicine chest in his bathroom.
Lexapro was a good anti-depressant for Tad. He thought it kept him from jumping off a balcony like his mother did one day in Florida. That was an awful day for everyone in Tad's family. She believed she was being poisoned and that some of the people she knew were out to get her, so her answer to the whole thing was just to take her own life. One morning, she got out of bed and instead of going to work, she decided to write out a suicide note. She wanted to tell Tad to beware of those people who she suspected were trying to kill her. When she was done writing the note, she opened the glass sliding door that separated the eighth story balcony from the living room, and walked outside. Looking over the edge of the balcony rail, she could see the shuffleboard court on the concrete deck below, and in front of her, a beautiful vista of blue green ocean and clean white sand. Climbing over the black wrought iron rail, she clung for a moment to the bottom rail before letting go. She might have hesitated for awhile because in her rational mind, she knew it was the wrong thing to do. Unfortunately, her irrational mind had a stronger hold on her and she let go her grip on the bar she was hanging on to, landing on the unforgiving surface of the concrete deck below.
That was one awful day that burned itself deep into Tad's memory. He knew that if he didn't want to end up like her, he'd better take care of himself and get to a doctor, so he did. Some of the anti-depressants the doctor prescribed didn't do much, but finally Tad found that Lexapro seemed to help. At least It helped him enough to keep him from dwelling on bad memories as much as he would have without the drug. That's why Tad took anti-depressants, and that's why he rarely forgot to.
Sitting down in his recliner, booze drink in one hand and a marijuana cigarette in the other, Tad swallowed down the anti-depressant with a long chug of scotch. Pot seemed to help ease Tad's tension and lack of self confidence. It helped him paint a rosier picture of a world that never seemed to welcome him. Tad spent each day feeling divorced from any natural connection with the world and his surroundings. He never knew what it was like to carry on a long standing friendship with someone, and marriage was just a pipedream to Tad. After all, he thought, what girl would want me? So after drinking and smoking his courage to an appropriate level, Tad got in the shower and got ready for what he hoped would be a prosperous and eventful evening, and by anyone's standards, it did at least prove to be eventful.

Tad decided to check out a spot in his neighborhood that he'd often passed by and wondered about. It was a bar with a dance floor reminiscent of the old disco scene of the seventies, complete with a rotating glass ball suspended from the ceiling that cast a glittery, surreal light on everything it touched. Tad even dressed in what he thought were appropriate clothes; a tight nylon brightly colored shirt with a pair of dark dress pants.
"How can I lose? he asked himself. "The girls will love me. I got the feeling the doctor was right. All I really needed to do was take off those thick glasses. I feel better about myself already. Tad really did work up his confidence level to a new all time high, of course, all the booze and pot he consumed while he was getting ready to go also helped to enhance his mood.
The Terrace, as it was called, was so crowded that when Tad pulled into the parking lot he couldn't find one empty space. Guess I'll have to park down the block, he thought, as he left the parking lot and turned down a side street. At last, he found an open space in front of a house that looked as if nobody lived there. Tad thought the house was a lonesome looking thing, and as he got out of his car and closed the door behind him, he wondered what a new coat of paint would do for it.
"Heck, it's not old, he muttered to himself. "Just looks like nobody cares about it. Oh well, he continued. "I got my work cut out for me. It's time for me ta bust-a-move!. And with that, he started off walking in the direction of the dance bar, without realizing in the dark that there were two couples coming toward him on their way back from the bar. As they got closer to him, he could hear their laughter and conversation, and suddenly, he realized they must be nearby.
"Did you get a look at that guy's face when his pants tore open! exclaimed one of the young men as he passed Tad.
"Are you kidd'in? answered one of the girls. "It was the funniest part a the whole night! I couldn't stop laughing!
Courteously smiling as Tad passed them on the sidewalk, he started to feel self-conscious again and wondered if the seam on his pants was sewn well enough to withstand a night spent dancing. Nervously, he felt the back of his pants to check for any small holes in the seam. Can't feel anything wrong back there, he thought. Maybe I should check again in the washroom. So as soon as Tad hit the door, he headed straight for the men's room to look over the back of his pants. Rushing to find a vacant stall, he locked the door behind him and yanked down his dress pants. "I don't see anything there, he mumbled. "I bet I'm good for the night at least. Now, I'm gonna hit the dance floor and check out the babes.
Walking out among the patrons of the nightclub, Tad found himself practically shoulder to shoulder with the biggest crowd of people he'd ever been in. The large gathering began to make him paranoid and he looked up and down the seats at the bar for a vacant spot. At long last, he spotted an empty seat in a far corner and started to make his way through the crowd in an effort to get there. Wow, I got lucky, he thought. Look at the babe in the next seat! Talk about eye candy, oh boy. As Tad approached the pretty young girl, he could feel the nervous tension building up in his stomach turning to nausea. Can't stop now Tad, he told himself. You didn't come all this way to quit at a time like this. Lets go now, get it together.
"Is this seat taken? asked Tad shyly.
"Yes, replied the girl bluntly.
Tad had never been this close to such a gorgeous natural wonder and desperately involved himself in the pursuit of her, never heeding her reply.
"But there's no one in it right now, he said. "Do you mind?
"Fine, was all she said.
"Do you come here often? asked Tad, hoping to ignite some spark of attention in her.
"No. Look, she continued, "my boyfriend just went to the washroom, he should be back any second now.
"O.K., answered Tad, ignoring her warning. "So what do you do?
"If you mean, what do I do for work, she said, "I'm an interior designer.
"Hey, I'm a designer too! responded Tad anxiously.
"Oh yeah. So what do you design?
"I work at home and design web sites.
"Oh, geek huh.
"I am not a... But before Tad could finish his sentence, he felt someone tapping him on his shoulder.
"Hey bud, said a tall, rough looking young man Tad turned to face. "You're in my seat. Is this guy bother'in you Linda?
"No, she replied. "He was just leaving. You were just leaving weren't you?
"Yeah, right, said Tad. "I gotta go. And with his head bowed, and eyes fixed on the floor in front of his feet, Tad left the nightclub feeling even more lonely and desperate than when he'd arrived.

When Tad got home from the dance bar, he took off his disco outfit and sat himself down in his favorite chair with another booze drink in hand, hoping to forget, or at least smooth over the bad evening he'd had.
"Why would you even go out? he asked of himself. "Don't you know better by now? Satisfied that he could not think of any good answer to the questions he posed, he resolved himself to chugging down the contents of the glass, and sat thinking to himself for a while. "I better busy myself with something to do before I blow my brains out. I swear, nothing ever goes right for me. he said, as he lethargically pushed the mass of his body out of the chair. "The whole world's against me. God, he continued, looking up toward the ceiling, "if you're out there listening to me, I want you to know I'd do anything at all if you could show me one woman in the world who might learn to care for a loser like me. I'm so tired of walking into walls and chasing the wrong person, I swear, I think I'm having another breakdown.
Tad's mood was at an all time low. Especially now, he couldn't help mulling over the nervous breakdown he'd had just a few years before. That was when his doctor told him he was bipolar and needed to take an anti-depressant for his mood swings. Tad was supposed to stay at the Evanston Hospital near Chicago, Illinois for a six week recovery period, but after two weeks, he got fed up with living the movie One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest and waited for his chance to escape. It came when an electronic door failed to lock one day and out he ran, dressed in gym shoes and jogging gear, he ran all the way home to his parents house, all seven miles on a hot mid-July day. His doctor let him stay home too, as long as Tad promised to take the meds he prescribed.
That seemed like an eternity ago. Everyone thought Tad was just under too much strain, trying to get good grades in college and staying up most of the night practicing Karate of all things. Weight training took up a lot of his time too. At first, these other activities were a healthy diversion from school work, but in time, Tad became obsessed with his training and ended up in the hospital. Everything had to be perfect and every motion had to be perfectly executed. It was too hard for Tad to live up to the high standards he set for himself. He cracked under the pressure of all that perfection.
Anyway, at times like this, Tad turned to one of the only friends he had in the world, (besides the bottle of booze he kept in his kitchen cabinet.) He turned to his computer. His computer never abused him or called him names like geek, and for that reason, Tad felt much more secure and confident typing away at his keyboard, then if he were talking to a real, living, breathing, person. It was unfortunate, but that was just the way it was. That's the way it'd always been, that is, up till now...
When Tad sat down at his computer that night with a glass of whiskey at his side, his mind finally began to settle down.
"I don't wanna work now, he said. "There's plenty of time for work tomorrow. What I need is something to help take my mind off my troubles. How about a game? Let's see...how about chess. That sounds good, I'll find a game online.
It didn't take Tad very long to find a game in session, and it wasn't long after that before he received an instant message, asking him if he'd be interested in starting up a new game. Tad quickly typed out his answer in the message box...
"Sure, why not? he wrote.
"Good then, came the reply. "I'll be white if you don't mind. What's your name?
"Tad Walton, what's yours?
"Dana Ryan. How good a player are you Tad? Just what am I up against?
Tad responded by typing, "My real name is Bobby Fisher. Ha ha, just a joke. Why don't you move first.
"Don't mind if I do Tad, replied Dana, and with that, the game began. Dana and Tad played on into the night, typing instant messages to each other and moving electronic pieces in a virtual world consisting of a logical dance floor. Tad had no idea Dana was a girl, and there was no rotating disco ball in Tad's imaginary space. All he knew was that the two of them seemed to get along very well, and soon the long games they played inspired his curiosity, as the virtual world slowly replaced it's true to life counterpart. Real time and space had lost their meaning to Tad, as cyberspace took hold of his mind and refused to let go it's grasp. Cautiously, Tad approached the question of Dana's gender as tactfully as he could.
"You play great, Tad typed. "Do you mind if I ask what state you live in?
"Not at all, came Dana's reply. "I live in Arkansas, how about you?
"Gosh, Tad typed. "You're not far from me at all. I live in Springfield, Missouri. What town are you in?
"Fort Smith.
"Gee Dana, that's a coincidence. You're a lot closer then I thought. How would you like to get together over a few beers some time? We could look for babes while we're at it too.
"The beers sound fine Tad, answered Dana, "but I'm just not into the babe thing. I'm not that kind of girl.
"Oops! said Tad. "I hope you can forgive me. I couldn't tell from your name. Would you still like to meet some time?
"I think I could manage that, came Dana's response, and as Tad read each word of her message one by one, he got more and more jittery. I didn't expect anything like this, he thought to himself. I swear, you go out looking and nothing happens, then you come home and when you least expect it, Whamo! Who would have guessed it?
"How about next Saturday tentative? asked Dana. "In the meantime, I've got to go but how about a game tomorrow same time. I like to get my mind off work when I come home and I don't get out much.
"Sounds good to me, said Tad. "Talk to you tomorrow.

The next day found Tad hard at work on his computer, redesigning a web site for a business in town, but the foremost thought in his mind was of Dana and the conversation they had the night before. Many times he'd tried to meet the opposite sex and many times he'd failed, so Tad didn't want to get his hopes up too much, but still, he couldn't stop thinking about what might be if things only went right this time.
"She sounded so nice, he said to himself as he worked. "She'll probably hate me if she meets me though, like all the rest. I just don't know why all these girls see me as some kind of geek, he thought. I've got one head, two arms and two legs just like everyone else. What's so damn different about me? I wish I knew. "Eventually, I'll figure this girl thing out, he said, as he added finishing touches and graphics to his design. "There now, I hope they like it. I'll just give them a call to tell them I'm done.
After finishing his project for the day, Tad was left with some free time on his hands. It's time for a beer, he thought, as he popped open the top to a cold bottle and went outside to sit on his deck.
"What can I do to avoid getting caught in the same trap I've been in all along? Is there anything about myself I can change? How about a nose job?, he thought as he walked back inside to look at himself in the mirror. Those zits I had in high school didn't do me much good either. I could've gotten off to a much better start that's for sure. Oh well, so I'm not perfect, who is? Who's perfect anyway?
Walking to the liquor cabinet in his kitchen, Tad reached for the bottle of scotch he kept on hand. "Nothing like a boiler maker to help a guy forget his troubles, he said, when he poured out the eighty proof alcohol into a large wine goblet. "A couple of tokes on the old peace pipe never hurt either. The combination of alcohol and marijuana got Tad very high and very relaxed. So relaxed that he completely forgot about the computer date he'd made with Dana for eight o'clock that evening. He was still oblivious to time when he fell asleep in his favorite chair, and never woke up until it was very nearly, too late.
"Seven fifty-five! Oh shit! Tad exclaimed, looking at his watch with one eye open, still weary from his afternoon bender. "My computer's not even on. I'll never make it, she'll think I don't care. Running at top speed from the living room to his home office, he clicked on the power button hoping to find Dana online at the game site where they'd met. Unable to find her, he hurriedly sent an e-mail to her screen name, thinking that if she was online at all, she'd receive his message and get back to him, but there was no reply.
Shit, maybe I got her address wrong, Tad thought, checking what he'd typed for any spelling error he might have made. "Nah, the address is fine. She's just not there. Shoot, it's only ten after, maybe she just forgot. Pushing himself out of his computer chair, he got up to stretch and think things over.
"What can I do? he said to himself. "All I can do is try again tomorrow. How could she give up on me already, she's never even met me? That would be typical though wouldn't it, one conversation and they're through with me. I'll never find a chick, give it up. And then, with one finger on the power button of his computer, about to give up for the night, the familiar sound of an instant message came over his speakers, filling the room with excitement.
"Hey Tad, I'm a little late, sorry.
"That's okay. Don't worry about it, typed Tad, relieved and happy to know that Dana hadn't given up on him after their one time meeting. "Did you want to start a game?
"That sounds great, answered Dana. "I'm tired and bored and feeling like I wish the world would just go away. You ever feel like that?
"Are you kidding, replied Tad. "Only every day, that's all. People can be really aggravating. Makes me just want to stay inside sometimes.
"That's the same way I feel. Com'on, she typed. "Let's start, it'll take my mind off my crummy day.
The two played chess and talked for hours. It wasn't until midnight that Tad realized how late it was, when he yawned and looked at his watch. Holy cow, he thought. I wonder if Dana knows how late it is.
"Dana, he typed. "It's coming up to midnight. I completely lost track of time. Do you have to get up early?
"Six o'clock, five days a week.
"That's early, said Tad. "What do you do for a living anyway, I forgot to ask.
"I'm customer service for a credit card company. Ass holes call me all the time to bother me over their finance charges and late fees. They even swear at me sometimes, can you believe it? The whole thing makes me wonder about men. Are there any nice ones out there at all?
"Gee Dana, what can I say? I think I'm nice. Do you mind if I ask you your opinion? What do you think of me?
"I think you're nice enough so far, but I never seem to be able to find a guy who can stay nice past the first few dates. Do you know what I mean? They always turn on me.
"Yes, I know what you mean. I feel that way too. People are always saying mean things aren't they. They need someone to pick on don't they. It's a shame.
"You can say that again, replied Dana. "But what makes you feel that way? I thought I was alone in this boat.
"Oh, girls pick on me sometimes.
"No, typed Dana. "Why would they? What do they say?
"For some weird reason I can't figure out, girls get it in their heads that I'm a geek or something. Sometimes, they just come right out and call me geek, can you believe it? I thought it was the glasses I wore so I changed to contacts. That didn't work. It's really been bad at times. I wonder if it's my job that's doing it?
"What is your job?
"I'm a web site designer.
"So, answered Dana. "What's wrong with that?
"Well, I do it all from my home practically. I really don't get out much to meet people. I'm just not a people person, know what I mean? Maybe girls can tell that when they talk to me. Maybe that's it. Maybe that's why. I think you just helped me figure it out Dana. It's not so much the way you look, but the way you act and the things you say. I'm just not the successful social animal girls are looking for.
"Who cares about them Tad. You sound fine to me. Why don't you come down here Saturday. We'll drink those beers you talked about and have some fun. We've got some great restaurants here. How about it? There's a good place on Grand Avenue in the center of town called Reid's Steak House. I can be there at six. Can you make it?
"Are you kidding? Say the word. I'm as good as there. Six is fine.
"Great, and in the meantime Tad, it sounds to me like you might be dwelling too much on these people who put you down. Just forget them, they've got issues and problems of their own. Sometimes the meanest people are just angry about the way they look themselves, or they feel as if their lives aren't going the way they planned. Regardless, I just want to say one more thing before I see you Saturday.
"What's that?
"My father used to tell me to keep my sense of humor, it's very important if you want to keep from falling apart. You can even see the comedy in tragedy if you look hard enough. Sometimes people do and say such outrageous things, you've just got to laugh at how absurd they can be.
"That's a good point Dana. I'll try to remember that. See you Saturday.
By the time Saturday finally arrived, Tad was a nervous mess. He'd never met a girl who would consent to meeting him again after the first date, and as far as he knew, he might very well be in for another let down with Dana. Sure she sounded nice he thought, but unfortunately, Tad had learned to trust no one and recently, he'd learned not to get his hopes up before leaving the house. Just the same, Tad couldn't avoid meticulously preparing himself for what he prayed would be a worthwhile night. After scrubbing himself in the shower, he carefully combed through his thinning hair even though he full well realized that it would only get messed up again on the long drive to Ft. Smith. When he completed the arduous tasks of washing and combing, he sprayed himself all over his upper body with his favorite cologne, hoping that if Dana didn't like the way he looked, she might at least appreciate the way he smelled. Next on Tad's checklist of things to do was to select a pair of pants and a shirt he could wear and feel comfortable in for the night ahead. That job alone took him at least a half hour of fussing and searching for just the right items. Finally, after much speculation and time spent in a lengthy decision making process, Tad felt well dressed enough in a loose fitting shirt and bell bottom trousers which most people hadn't seen or worn since the nineteen seventies. Tad never really did understand styles of dress or the simple notion of how best to fit in with the crowd without sticking out like a sore thumb. Then, after all of Tad's rituals had been completed and he was fairly satisfied that he'd arrive in Ft Smith looking and smelling his best, came the greatest obstacle yet in Tad's path; leaving the house. Just leaving the house to go anywhere at all was an achievement to Tad, but because tonight was such a very special night, Tad's time spent getting ready was even more painfully slow then usual. The second phase of rituals were about to begin now, as Tad reached into his pants pocket to search for things he thought he'd be needing for the night.
"My keys, he said aloud. "Where the heck did I leave them? Oh yeah, they gotta be in the pants I hung up behind my bedroom door. Oh yeah baby, here they are, he said, as he fished them out of a worn out old pair of casuals hanging on a hook.
"Now where'd I leave my wallet? Ah, over on my dresser. I see you, you rascal. You can't hide from me.
More time passed before Tad had walked around the house collecting everything he thought he'd need. No doubt, he was going to show up at least a half hour late. He just couldn't help it, before he left, he had to walk around checking every faucet and every electrical item he owned to make sure everything was safe and in an off position. Even though he worried that Dana would get tired of waiting for him and leave the restaurant before he got there, he just couldn't help running down the long list of things he needed to do and check before leaving. It was hard to change the strange characteristics and bad habits he'd learned while growing up. Tad even knew himself that so much of his disabled personality was the result of terrible conditioning, but what was he to do about it now?
At long last, Tad was ready to leave the house, but there was one more thing on his mind that kept him from opening the door; the courage to do it. Tad just couldn't turn the door knob without at least one bracer, maybe two. Shrinking back, away from the front door, he walked to the kitchen to fill a tall glass with ice and pour it full of scotch.
Just one for the road, that's all it is, he thought, as he leaned his head back and chugged the drink as quickly as possible. No time to waste. Can't keep Dana waiting, he continued. God, I hope this works out. She seemed to like me over the computer at least but who knows, this could be the first and the last time I see her. Just like all the rest of my dates, nothing ever seems to work. "Com'on Tad, he said to himself. "You can do it. And with one more gulp, he finished the oversized drink and set it down on the kitchen counter with a resounding thud. A little more bold now and less inhibited, Tad made his way to the front door one last time, turned the handle with the sweating palm of his right hand and bravely walked out into the cool, late afternoon air.

It wasn't difficult to find the restaurant. All he had to do was drive down the main drag through the city until he came across it. He spotted the big neon sign in the window before he noticed an even larger one suspended over the sidewalk, lit brightly with big white and yellow bulbs spelling out the words Reid's Steak House in large vertical letters. Driving to the rear of the building to look for a parking space, Tad suddenly realized something he forgot to do. "Damn it all, he said to himself, smacking the steering wheel of his car with the open palms of his hands. "How the hell will I know her when I see her? I forgot to ask her what she looks like. Shit, my date's over and I never even got a chance to meet her. I might as well go back home. But as Tad sat in his car with his head pressed against the steering wheel, considering leaving, he thought he might at least walk in and look around for a lady sitting alone at the bar. After all, what harm could it do, and it was worth a try.
The restaurant bar was busy. It was about six thirty-five now and people were waiting in the foyer for a vacant table.
"Can I help you sir? asked a petite, pretty hostess.
"I came here to meet someone, replied Tad. "Is it okay if I have a look around?
"Certainly, no problem.
As the hostess turned away, Tad walked to the bar which was located in a large room by itself, filled with drinkers working up an appetite for dinner. Unfortunately for Tad, as he searched, he couldn't find any girls sitting alone, only couples and other assorted businessmen and women who sat nursing their drinks, chatting over the stock market or other such events of the day. Upset and about to leave, Tad was in the middle of turning his body around to exit the same way he'd come in, when a lovely lady sitting in a far corner of the bar caught his eye. She had a very pretty face and wore her blonde hair shoulder length. She looked to be about Tad's age, in her mid-twenties and as Tad looked at her, she returned his gaze with a smile on her beaming face. Strangely though, she was not sitting alone and Tad didn't quite know how to interpret her inviting appearance. Then suddenly, she began waving at Tad. Could it be Dana? he thought, as he raised his arm and returned the wave. Whoever the man was who sat next to her also looked on at Tad, but with a much less inviting expression on his face. Instantly, Tad reflected on the events which took place the last night he went looking for love. He remembered how he'd angered a young man whose date he found himself sitting next to. Clearly, he didn't want to have to go through a repeat performance of that night. One mistake like that was all Tad could afford to make, but before he had time to make a decision, the girl rose from her seat and began walking towards him.
"Is your name Tad? she said, almost timidly.
"Dana! Tad exclaimed. "Wow, how'd you know it was me? I forgot to ask you anything about what you look like or what you'd be wearing.
"I just took a chance. How was your trip down here?
"Not too bad. Springfield isn't really that far is it. Hey Dana, who's the guy you're sitting with. I didn't know you'd be bringing someone else.
"Oh, him. I don't even know him. He just sat down next to me while I was waiting for you. What took you so long anyway?
"I'm just always late I guess. I've got some bad habits I should break. Whenever I have to go somewhere I end up walking around the house checking things to make sure they're off. Do you ever do that?
"No, but one of my sisters has a habit like that. Tad, she continued. "Look over there, a table opened up. Let's grab it and sit down.
Sitting down at the table was much more relaxing then having to stand and talk, and as they settled in, a busboy came along to take away the dirty dishes and ash trays from the people who'd been sitting there before. It was at that time that the couple finally got the chance to take a good look at each other, and as Tad observed Dana sitting there on the opposite side of the table, he thought about how much cuter she was then he'd ever expected, and he couldn't help but wonder what she thought of him.
"Dana, started Tad. "I'm just sitting here wondering how a girl as cute as you could ever have trouble finding the right guy. Have you been looking in the wrong places?
"I haven't been looking all that much really, she said in reply. "I don't like hanging out in bars. I guess you could say I'm kind of a loner. How about yourself, what's your excuse?
"Gosh Dana, it's like I told you. I must be antimagnetic or something. Things just never go my way. Do I look like the Hunchback of Notre Dame or what? That's about what I go around thinking.
"Quite the opposite Tad, you're much better looking than I thought you'd be, but while we're on the subject, I wanted to tell you that looks are a lot less important to me then you might think. I've been looking for someone who's nice, and that's about all the qualifications they need.
"That's good to know, said Tad, but as he was about to ask Dana what she'd like to drink, he noticed the man who'd been sitting next to her glancing back at him every so often.
"Hey Dana, that guy over there you were sitting next to is giving me the creeps.
"Oh, it's probably all in your head. We hardly even spoke to each other. But as Dana finished her sentence, the man at the bar stood up, chugged down the last of his drink and began to walk slowly towards them. He appeared to be smiling as he came closer to their table, almost too close Tad thought, as he tried to remind himself of his own nagging paranoia. Then, as the man came about as close as he possibly could, Tad realized he was about to say something.
"Dork.
"What? Did you hear that? said Tad, looking on at Dana in disbelief as the unknown man calmly left the room. "Am I imagining things or did he just call me a dork? You must have heard it. You see, that's the kind of treatment I get. That's what I was trying to tell you.
"He was such an asshole I can't believe it, said Dana, with a look of astonishment on her face. "And to think I was talking to him. It gives me the creeps, yuck. Look, she continued. "Can't we just forget it. I hate to give myself too much credit, but it could be that he was just jealous of you. Some guys are like that.
"Yeah sure, he could be jealous I suppose. But Dana, said Tad as he folded his arms to rest them on the table. "Now you know what I've been going through.
"It's just bad luck I bet, replied Dana. "Try to look on the bright side. Com'on, lets order something to eat, I'm starved.
When the waiter came by, Tad and Dana ordered two steak dinners, and the restaurant soon proved to be as good as Dana said it was. After they ate, Tad sat back in his chair to reflect on the night and his date with Dana. It seemed to him that everything Dana said only enhanced the way he'd been feeling all along, and that most of the time, they were in agreement on the many topics they discussed, but one topic in particular, to Tad, stood out like a sore thumb. It was, though it seemed to be through no fault of his own, Tad's inability to get along with others and to cope with the everyday events of just plain living. Dana advised Tad as best she could and told him to forget any bad times in his life because, after all, any bad things that have happened are already in the past, and why would you ruminate over the bad tidings of the past when the present and the future are so much more important.
"You just can't do anything about what's already happened, she said. "Why would you want to go on reliving all the crummy events of the past? Why torture yourself?
"I don't know Dana, Tad replied, looking down at the table and adjusting his weight in his chair as he mulled over Dana's argument. "Sometimes, I just can't help myself. I can't help going over and over things. I can really drive myself crazy like that. You know, he continued. "My mother committed suicide. You probably think I'm strange for telling you this on our first date but, she just drove herself crazy in similar ways I think.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry to hear that Tad. You can't let that happen to you. Don't let life beat you down.
"I'm trying Dana. She was a talented woman, a tough act to follow in ways, but I can't give up the way she did. There are too many things that I want to do. Things that I'd like to accomplish in my life. Things that I may never get to do if I cut my life short. Do you know what I mean?
"I know what you mean but you sound so pessimistic. You've got to learn to look on the bright side of life. You're needlessly wearing yourself down, she continued. "Remember what my father said?
"You mean, about keeping your sense of humor?
"Exactly. If you don't learn to laugh things off, you'll just depress yourself more and more. Why would you want to do that?
"You keep asking me Dana, Tad explained. "But I really can't answer the question. I guess I never learned some of the basic skills a person needs for survival. You seem to have great people skills. I envy that in you.
"I had to learn those things. It was sink or swim where I came from. I had two brothers and four sisters who constantly yelled and fought with each other. Believe me, I couldn't wait to get away to some quiet place of my own where I wouldn't have to go through that any more. But my mother was a help to me. I learned to be a good soldier and do what was expected of me. Because of her, I've never lost a job. I have to give her credit.
"It sounds like she did the best she could, answered Tad.
"She did, said Dana. "Hey, she continued. "Lets get the heck outta here. The night's still young. Why should we spend it all couped up in here? What do you want to do?
"I wanna have some fun, said Tad. "Besides this dinner with you, I haven't had fun in a long time.
"I'm having a hard time believing that Tad. You must've had a good time lately doing something, somewhere. Everyone has.
"Nope.
"You're trying to make me feel sorry for you, right? It's not going to work.
"No, really, answered Tad. "I just stay in and work almost every day. Then when I'm done I...
"Yes, replied Dana. "You what? You were about to tell me what you do after work.
"Well, said Tad, beginning to fidget in his chair as he nervously dropped his gaze to the floor. "I..., I get a little buzzed if you really want to know.
"What do you mean by buzzed Tad? You mean you have one or two drinks?
"Not exactly. It's more like five or six, but hey, who's counting. Weren't we going somewhere?
"Right, said Dana. "You pick the place.
"I don't know Dana, that's what I was trying to tell you. I don't go anywhere. Look, he said, hesitating while he thought hard on the subject. "Why don't we just go for a walk? You can tell me more about yourself while we walk. I'm really interested.
"I know a great place for a walk, said Dana. "There's a great big cemetery on the west side of the city where we won't be bothered by other people. How does that sound?
"A little morbid I'd say, replied Tad. "But I like the part where we won't be bothered. I've had my fill of being bothered. Tell you what, he continued. "I'll meet you outside after I pay the bill. How's that sound.
"Fine, but I want to pay my own way Tad. Here's my share, said Dana, as she reached into her purse and pulled out enough cash to cover her end of the check and then some.
"No, responded Tad. "I can't take that. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you.
"Don't be silly, I insist. If it's that important to you, we can work things out differently later on.
"You mean, later on as in, another date?
"Of course, why not?
"I just didn't expect you to want to go out with me again. It's a bit of a shock.
"Wow, she replied. "You really do have self esteem issues don't you. Com'on, continued Dana. "Lets get out of here.

The National Cemetery Dana suggested they walk in was a very large one, not far from the Fort Smith National Historic site. Standing there in the middle of it, Tad and Dana felt lost among the multitude of markers and granite head stones that surrounded them. As they walked around reading the many inscriptions on the stones, Tad became almost as interested as Dana in the brief glimpse of history that lay sprawling at their feet.
"Come here Tad, look at this one.
"Wow, Born July 15, 1799, replied Tad, impressed with the ancient birth date on the marker. "And look here, he continued. "Died June 5, 1902. God, he lived through the civil war and everything. Lets see, he was already an old man in eighteen-sixty, but then he lived on for forty more years. He was luckier then a lot of guys who died in the war, but you never know what he went through in his lifetime.
"No electric lights, said Dana. "No radio, no television. I can't imagine living like that with no modern conveniences, but then at the time, they didn't know any better did they? Can you see yourself sitting at the kitchen table by the fireplace, reading a book by candle light or oil lamp? Better yet, how would you like to work in a field all day from sunup to sundown pushing a plow? I'm sure he had a rough life.
"Yeah, I bet you're right. We outta just be glad we were born when we were and we didn't have to go through that crap. I probably would've starved to death. Someone would find my rotting corpse, laying there on the bare earth floor, right hand still clutching an empty bottle of booze and smelling to high heaven. It wouldn't be pretty, I'll tell you that right now.
"Tad, replied Dana, feeling slightly disgusted over Tad's graphic description. "There's such a thing as too much information, know what I mean. That's a pretty gross thought of you laying there all rotting and smelly and all. Com'on, she said, gesturing out into space towards the vast sea of grave stones before them. "There's a lot more to see.
Strolling around the cemetery with his hands behind his back, Tad began to feel more at ease then he'd felt in many years. He didn't know whether it was Dana's presence that was responsible for his new mood, or the huge expanse of quiet that lay all around them, but whatever the reason, he was grateful to Dana for making it happen, and what he believed at first would be a morbid walk through acres of poor departed souls, had become an interesting stroll through time.
"It might sound silly, Tad said. "But I haven't felt a peace like this in many years. I just wanted to say thanks for bringing me here.
"Yeah? I'm glad you like it, replied Dana. "I wasn't sure you would, but it makes me feel calm and peaceful too.
As the two walked further, they decided to take separate paths through the burial grounds, each one investigating on their own the many centuries old grave stones that so many people had either overlooked or ignored in their haste of living. Interrupting the clear, unobstructed horizon before them, now and then, stood taller mausoleums which stood out from among the other graves like small fancy houses for the rich and holy. As Tad got closer to one of them, he was impressed by the beautiful statuary that guarded the tomb, and wondered what it must have been like to live with that much money, and then to have passed on, knowing that even in death, he'd be cared for in the best possible manner. Looking through the barred window, Tad saw not one but four bodies entombed inside the thick granite chamber.
Gosh, he thought to himself. A whole family in there or what? "I hope they were close in life, Tad said, speaking softly to himself. "Cause they're sure jammed together now.
Suddenly, Tad turned around to find Dana waiving her arms in the air, motioning for him to come to her. When he arrived at the spot where she was standing and asked her what was wrong, she pointed down to a headstone with an inscription of a child on it.
"Can you believe how young he was? she said, in a most solemn voice.
"Wasn't even a year old, but Dana, Tad continued. "They had all sorts of kids die in their sleep or get fatally sick back then.
"You're telling me? My father buried his sister when she was three. That was an awful blow to him.
"I'm sorry to hear that, said Tad, doing his best to comfort Dana. "I suppose we've all been touched by death in some way. There's no getting away from it is there.
"No, she answered. "There sure isn't. Come here, she said, gesturing with her hand to get Tad to follow her. "I want to show you something else as long as we're here.
The two walked on for a few minutes until they'd practically reached the opposite side of the cemetery, then all at once, Dana stopped and pointed down to one of the graves. There were flowers on it inserted into a small bronze vase and the vase, in turn, was attached to the headstone by a small chain.
"I come here from time to time, said Dana, referring to the recently placed flowers. "There she is. She would have been my aunt if she lived. Strange how things work out sometimes isn't it?
"That was your dad's sister huh? Elizabeth Ryan. How did she die anyway?
"The same way a lot of people died then, pneumonia.
"No antibiotics back in the nineteen twenties, said Tad. "Another reason why we should be grateful for having been born when we were; modern medicine.
"Yeah, right, she said. "Tad...
"What?
"Thanks for bringing me out here. I appreciate it. Not everyone wants to take a walk in a cemetery you know.
"Yeah I know, but I kinda like it. If nothing else, it reminds you that you better have some fun while you can because in time, this is where we all end up. I'm just wondering one thing...
"What's that?
"Do you think you're dad's sister is in heaven, or is she just six feet under?
"I think she's in a spirit world with other departed souls that's what I think. I believe there are other dimensions that we just can't see and that's where we go when we die. What do you believe?
"I believe there's a beginning and an end to everything. I think that death is the end, and after that, there's just nothing, nonexistence. The same way we were nonexistent before we were born.
"I should call you Mr. Pessimism, replied Dana. "Mr. Pessimism, I have to get back to my car now, but I wanted to tell you that I had a good time. Do you think you'd like to meet like this again?
"Why sure I would, said Tad anxiously. "Just name a time and place.
"There's an amusement park in Little Rock right off Roosevelt Road. Just follow the signs to the State Fairgrounds, you can't miss it. I can meet you there next Saturday if you want.
"Sounds like fun, said Tad. "But if we eat something, we better wait till after. I don't wanna lose my lunch on a ride. That'd be a little embarrassing, know what I mean?
"I know what you mean. Some of the rides get pretty wild, but you're not one of those people who are afraid of wild rides are you?
"What? answered Tad. "Me, are you kidd'in. he quipped, smiling as he gestured with his thumb to his chest, doing his best to hide the way he really felt about leaving the safety of his home at any given time. "I ain't afeard a nuth'in.
"Good then, replied Dana. "I'll meet you in the parking lot at ten a.m. sharp, how's that work for you.
"That'll work.

The following seven days gave Tad plenty of time to worry about his forthcoming date with Dana. He didn't want to tell her but the last time he'd been on a roller coaster he was about ten years old, and as he recalled, that day didn't go very smoothly. As if he didn't have enough fear and unrest in his mind to keep him busy, he also had a fear of heights. Crowds were one thing, but with enough alcohol coursing through his veins he could make an attempt at faking his way through, making it appear on the surface at least that he was coping with his surroundings. But fear of heights, that was another story completely, and by the time Saturday rolled around, Tad was a mess from not sleeping. He worried relentlessly about falling out of the roller coaster or some other ride, and even with all the drugs he had at his disposal, he still wasn't able to sleep a wink. Even so, when Saturday morning rolled around, Tad found himself standing in the middle of the Fairgrounds parking lot, waiting for his date to arrive.
"What happened to you? asked Dana, as she walked the distance from her car to where Tad was standing.
"What do you mean?'
"I mean you look so tired and haggard. Are you sure you want to do this today?
"Sure I'm sure. Are you kidding? I can't wait. As Tad spoke, his knees wobbled slightly and knocked together, partly from fatigue and partly from sheer fright.
"Okay, replied Dana. "But why don't we get you a little something to drink. Something with some caffeine in it. That might give you an energy boost.
"Oh no, said Tad, worried that the caffeinated drink might spoil his alcohol high or cause dissension in an already churning stomach. "I'm fine, really.
"Alright then, Dana answered. "If you insist. Lets buy some tickets and get the show on the road.
Once in the park, Tad could hardly believe his eyes. There he was, standing in the middle of a huge amusement park complete with water rides, roller coasters and various other attractions that scared the living hell out of him, but not once did he ever let Dana know just how much he wished he wasn't there. He'd waited too long for a girl like Dana to come into his life and he wasn't about to mess things up now by revealing his fears.
"What should we go on first? asked Dana excitedly. "How about that ferris wheel over there, she said, pointing in its direction. "Wow, that must be the tallest ferris wheel I've ever seen. I bet we can see the whole park from the top. Com'on, lets go!
On the way to the ferris wheel, Tad's whole body started to tremble. Dana wanted to hold hands on the walk, but Tad quickly stuck his hands in his pockets, still trying desperately to hide the way he felt, but the moment of truth had arrived. As the two sat down together in the dangling open-air compartment of the ride, Tad was shaking more then ever as the protective metal bar came down over his waistline and locked into position with a loud click. Then, with little beads of sweat popping up all over the palms of his hands and forehead, clinging tenaciously to the metal bar for dear life, he turned to Dana and spoke as honestly as he could... "I don't feel so good.
"I thought something was wrong with you, she said. "You're just not at ease the way you were last week. Don't worry about it, Dana continued, "you'll be okay, it can't be that long a ride.
"Right, I'll hang in there. It'll probably just go away.
"What will go away? What's bothering you?
"Its my stomach, said Tad, as the big wheel lurched and began to rotate on its huge axle. "Lets just say I've felt better. I think I had a few too many booze drinks before I left home.
"Oh Tad, why'd you do that?
"I don't know. Just a little shaky about amusement parks I guess.
As Tad finished his sentence, his grasp on the bar in front of him tightened even more firmly as the big wheel rotated to three-quarters of its full height.
"What exactly is the problem? said Dana, hoping to get at the crux of the matter if she could.
"I've got this fear of heights.
"So that's it. Hey, that's not that big a deal. My dad wasn't to fond of heights either.
"Yeah but...I got a bad case of it.
"Just don't look down. I'll tell you what I can see and you won't have to look for yourself. Close your eyes if you need to.
"They're closed, answered Tad, as the big wheel came to the very top of its arc and suddenly, stopped. "But my stomach is still doing somersaults. What's going on? Why did we stop?
"You got me. Maybe they're having a problem down there. Wow, said Dana. "Check out how tiny the people look from up here.
"I don't think I should Dana. I'm still queasy.
"Oh, go on, said Dana, in a mildly persuasive tone. "This might be the only chance you'll get for a long time. You never know when you'll get back here.
"Alright, Tad replied. "I'll take a look.
"Okay, so, open an eye.
"Okay, okay. Just give me a minute to get used to the idea.
"Tad, you only live once right? Remember what you said about when people die? You said after that, there's nothing right.
"Yep, answered Tad. "You got me there. That's what I said.
"Okay, so start living, said Dana. "You know what president Lincoln once said? He said, In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.
"So, what's that mean to me? asked Tad, as the two of them hung suspended in the car of the ferris wheel for what seemed to Tad, an eternity.
"For one thing, she continued. "It means that you can't go on living your life afraid of life. You've got to come out of that shell of yours. Why not start now by opening your eyes. Take a good look at the world around you Tad. Participate in life, or it'll pass you by. We're all in the same boat.
There was something else I wanted to tell you also, as long as we've got a little time on our hands.
"What's that?
"I wanted to tell you not to be so worried about the things people say all the time. When it gets right down to it, they're only words. Just a lot of bull. Who cares. Who gets hurt if somebody says something mean to you? You don't have to feel hurt if you don't want to. Who cares what they say. Actions, out of good productive thoughts, will always speak louder then nasty words.
"You've got a point there Dana. I like the way you put that. Okay, said Tad in agreement, slowly opening his right eye. "I'm gonna do this because you're right, you only go around once in life and I'm gonna start living right now.
And as Tad's eye opened all the way, he looked down below his feet at the crowd rushing around to get where they were going, some of whom appeared not even to acknowledge the presence of others, as they passed each other haphazardly on the hot, dark pavement.
"Well, said Dana. "What do you think?
"I think I'm gonna be sick, said Tad, as he let go a terrible choking sound and spewed the alcohol laced contents of his stomach into the passing crowd below.
"Oh God Tad, said Dana in disgust. "That was unbelievable. Did you have to do that? Yuck, it smells, you got some on the floor near our feet, look.
"Sorry, I couldn't help it. I just couldn't hold it in anymore, but I feel better now. Hey, who's the old man down there shaking his fist?
"You must've let loose on him Tad, he doesn't look to happy does he.
"I suppose you're right. Looks like he's screaming something doesn't it. I wonder what he's saying, said Tad, and as he finished speaking, the big wheel lurched once again and continued on its circular path. "Oh boy, continued Tad. "We're mov'in again. I can't wait to get my feet on the ground.
"Fine but, I think we're gonna get yelled at, said Dana. "Unless we can get out of here pronto. But even before the ride attendant could unlock the safety bar from around their waists, Tad and Dana could hear the old man's angry screams getting louder as he got closer, still shaking his fist in the air.
"You threw up all over my wife you dumb bastard! You get over here and clean this up!
"What did he say? asked Tad, "I can't hear so good, my ears are plugged from the ride.
"He said you barfed on his wife. That must be her over there crying, said Dana, as she spotted a sobbing older woman in a nearby crowd with what appeared to be light brown soup in her otherwise, totally white hair.
"Uh oh, said Tad. "What do we do?
"We run, what else can we do? I don't have anything to clean her up with do you? I don't feel like listening to the old man yell at us either. Com'on, said Dana, as the attendant finally unlocked the safety bar and freed the two. "Lets get the heck outta here!
Running clear across the fairgrounds to a totally different section of the park, the pair slowed down their running pace to a jog, and then shortly after, to a complete stop. Bent at the waist with their hands to their knees, and gasping for their next breath of air, Dana looked at Tad and smiled.
"That was kinda fun, she said. "Its been years since I've ran like that. It reminded me of the time when I was a kid running through my neighbors garden.
"Why'd you run through their garden? asked Tad.
"They were old and crabby for one thing. They complained about my brothers and sisters every chance they got, so running through their garden made me feel better.
"Why'd they complain?
"You know those old people who get upset when you walk on their grass. They sit by the window knocking on it like crazy.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I've seen it a million times myself, said Tad. "Anyway, what do you wanna do now?
"How about something that won't make you sick, like that train ride over there, answered Dana. "We could see the rest of the park that way too.
"Good idea, lets get in line.
After a few minutes of waiting, Tad and Dana found seats in the front of the train and sat down, eager to take in the pleasant scene of slowly passing trees and shrubs, set against a backdrop of tall hills and fresh green valleys dotted with grazing cattle.
"Did I scare you off today? asked Tad, as he watched a newborn calf and its mother laying peacefully in the shade of a large oak tree.
"What do you mean? replied Dana. "You mean when you tossed your cookies on the old lady back there?
"Yeah. I just got this feeling I may never see you again.
"Heck no Tad, It's history now. You've got to put an end to those negative thoughts. I practically forgot about it anyway. Just try not to make a practice out of it. You don't throw up on people every day do you?
"To the best of my recollection, said Tad, shifting his attention away from the passing scenery for a moment to look into Dana's eyes. "No, I don't barf on people everyday, that's true.
"Then in my book, said Dana as she started to laugh. "You're as good a person as any.

From that time on, and with every passing day, the bond between Tad and Dana grew stronger and more lasting. Tad finally came to realize, after some months of dating, that Dana wasn't running away as other girls had done in the past and he gradually grew more confident about their relationship. In fact, Tad had grown so sure and fond of Dana and her companionship that he believed he was falling in love with her. It was Tad's idea then, to get together at a fine restaurant where they could sit quietly and talk over the future of their relationship.
"I'm glad you could meet me tonight, said Tad, in the dim candle lit room of the restaurant. "I had something important to talk over with you.
"Like what? asked Dana, just as a waiter came to the table to take their order.
"Oh, it can wait. Lets order dinner, said Tad. "It's just that, Tad continued, slightly agitated, as he looked up at the expressionless face of the waiter looming over their table, and then back at Dana. "It's just that...
"Yes Tad, it's just that what?
"It's just that I wondered what you'd think about wearing this tonight, he said, fumbling for a small velvet box in his pocket, and finally opening it to reveal its contents.
"Oh my God, said Dana. "It's beautiful! Can I try it on?
"Of course, said Tad, feeling slightly relieved that phase one of his plan had successfully been completed, he now braced himself for phase two, and asked her one final question... "Will you marry me?
"Oh yes, I will! said Dana, beaming and smiling from ear to ear.
"Terrific! said Tad, as he stood up suddenly from the dinner table, waving his arms in glee as Dana sat admiring the marvelously faceted diamond ring on her finger. But as Tad rose from his seat, he inadvertently tilted the dinner table, and as he did, both of their water glasses and the big pitcher they used to fill them with, fell over and spilled their contents all over Dana's lap. Acting quickly, the waiter grabbed a towel and helped Dana to blot up the water, but even as this went on, Tad still didn't realize what he'd done. He was still, very busy celebrating, jumping up and down and making a spectacle of himself as he'd never done before in his life.
"Tad, would you cut it out! Look at this mess, said Dana, trying to get his attention. "How about a little help here.
"What? Huh? he said, as he finally turned to find his date soaking wet, frustrated and growing angrier by the moment. "Oh shit, what did I do now?
"Nothing much, replied Dana. "I just don't normally bathe with my clothes on.
'Are you mad at me? asked Tad. "I didn't mean it.
"Sir, interjected the waiter. "Would you like to order now, or should I come back in a few minutes?
"You still want to eat don't you Dana? asked Tad, worried that she might have leaving on her mind. "You're not gonna let a little water come between us are you?
"No Tad, I'm alright. Just give me fair warning next time will you?
"You got it, said Tad. "Lets order. We have to celebrate. I propose a toast to the new Mrs. Walton. Waiter, continued Tad. "We'll have two steaks medium rare and a bottle of champagne. Bring the bottle first, we've got some celebrating to do.
"Very good sir.

At dinner that evening, Dana made the decision to move into Tad's house until they could find the time to go to the courthouse and tie the knot. Tad was so excited about the whole thing that he temporarily forgot just how drug dependent and fearful of the world he was. For the next week or so, he came and went from his home without worry or concern, and did so all without the aid of alcohol, Lexapro, marijuana, Valium or anything else in his arsenal of drugs, until one day...
It was a Saturday morning, and a very pretty one at that. The neighborhood birds filled the warm breezy air with musical charm, as the rays of the sun found their way into Tad's bedroom, lighting the walls and floor with a springtime cheer and feeling of well-being. It would seem to some people as if nature had set the perfect tempo to a perfect day, but Tad was among a large and growing group of people, trying to function in their daily lives without the coping skills they so desperately needed.
"Dana, are you up yet?
"I guess so, she said, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "I am now anyway. What is it?
"I can't believe my mom jumped off that balcony.
"I can't either Tad, but that was ten years ago. Why are you suddenly thinking about it now? You're dwelling on the past again aren't you.
"Maybe I am. Wait, he said, staring at the ceiling as he tried to think of what could be wrong. "Uh oh, I haven't been taking my Lexapro. I'll bet that's why.
"So, go take one.
"I can't, said Tad. "The bottle's empty.
"Don't let it run out Tad, you need that stuff. Get on the phone and call it in.
After Tad called in his prescription, he laid back down in bed and covered his head with his pillow to block out as much sound and light as he possibly could.
"Well, asked Dana. "Aren't you going to get it. The drug store's only a mile from here.
"I can't, said Tad. "Not right now at least.
"Whatever, answered Dana, not wanting to get too involved in a decision Tad should have been making by himself. "I'm going back to sleep.
As Dana drifted back into a deep sleep, Tad did what he thought was the best thing to do at the time. Maybe if I have a few blasts off the cork, he thought, I can drink the courage I need to get myself out of bed. Doesn't make any sense to tell Dana what a scared mess I am. So without further hesitation, Tad got out of bed and went straight to the liquor cabinet in the kitchen where he poured out a water glass full of eighty proof nerve.
"This outta calm me down, he said to himself. "Could be a bit much for a morning bracer though. Some day soon I'm gonna cut down, but not right now. Now's when I need it most, he continued, as he chugged down the entire glass of liquid lightening.
"That should do, he said, and as he put the glass down on the kitchen counter, he could already feel the effects of the alcohol taking place.
"Wow, they sure don't give servings like that in restaurants that's for sure. Now all I gotta do is get dressed and get my stuff.

Getting into the car, Tad accidentally hit his head on the edge of the roof, but because of the large amount of alcohol in his bloodstream, he couldn't feel the full effect of the blow, which otherwise would have delayed his trip.
"Dammit! That hurt like hell. I'm gonna have a bump there for sure, said Tad, as he fumbled and struggled with dizziness to get the car key in the ignition. "Other people don't have to go through this shit, he said, as he backed the car down from the driveway to the street. " Why me God? Why has my life got to be so hard? But that was a question Tad had asked himself many times over and never really seemed to realize that his life wasn't much different then anyone else's.
Getting to the main road, Tad arrived at the hilliest part of the trip, which for many young and inebriated people was also, the most fun part. Since Springfield, Missouri consists of so many hills, road builders had no choice but to build over them and in doing so, inadvertently created the game known to young people in the area as Hill-Topping. The game is simple, and begins at the base of a steep hill in the road, by speeding your way up along the hill until the car rises over the ridge and continues on, gliding through the air by the force of its own momentum. The only problem is, landing the vehicle safely on the far side of the hill.
And so, as the alcohol content in Tad's bloodstream rose to its highest level, he began to wonder what it would be like to soar up and over a hill like so many kids had wondered before him. The mere fun of doing it was one thing, but the courage he needed to pull it off, that was quite another. However, this morning Tad was feeling all the courage he'd be needing and then some. It's a wonder what a water glass full of scotch will do for a person's foolhardy, reckless abandon and as Tad came to the foot of the next hill, he pressed the accelerator pedal to the floor of his car until the front end seized up. He heard the engine of his car go from a low pitched murmur to a high pitch scream as it seemed to protest in disapproval of Tad's action. Picking up speed, Tad flew over the oncoming hill like a bird in flight, gliding through the air for many feet until his car came crashing down to earth like the heavy piece of machinery it was; with a violent clang of overstressed metal parts. Heaving from its landing, the still speeding car, recovering from the force of falling, stored all of its fatal potential energy into its own spring and strut suspension, causing it to rise up from the road once more, this time unexpectedly, veering out of control, turning over and over then finally coming to a rest by colliding with a nearby tree.
When paramedics arrived at the scene, they had trouble finding Tad's body, since it'd been ejected from the car by passing first through the windshield like a human cannon ball, and thrown for many feet past the wreck itself.
"You find him like this? asked a paramedic who showed up at the scene.
"Just like that, said one of the policemen, looking down at Tad's battered body as it lay on the picturesque hillside. "You think he suffered much? continued the officer.
"I don't think so, replied the paramedic. "I bet he was dead before he knew what hit him. Nah, anyway, any suffering he went through, he went through in this life, not where he's go'in. Somebody notify his next of kin.

"Everything has been figured out, except how to live.
Jean-Paul Sartre