The Anti-Story

Rob awoke at 6:45 a.m., just like he always did. He relieved himself in the bathroom and moseyed downstairs, where he first turned on the coffee pot, then went to the fridge and took out the milk. He walked over to his pantry and took out the same brand of cereal he always bought, Vanilla Almond Special K. He always did these things in the exact same order. After breakfast, he brushed his teeth, got dressed and hopped in his car to head to the office.

Rob took the same route and stopped at his usual gas station for a newspaper and a coffee. He stepped inside, greeted Walter, the gas station attendant, and grabbed the newspaper so he could read a few headlines while the coffee poured. As he glanced down, reading MAYOR SMITH RESIGNS OVER SCANDAL, he heard the sound of a bell behind him, alerting that another customer had arrived.

This was not another customer however, made obvious when Rob heard, “Alright mother fucker, open the cash register! Empty the drawer asshole!”.

            Rob turned around to see a man in a ski mask with a pistol pointed right between Walter’s eyes. And his stomach turned. He panicked and looked around to grab something for protection. Picking up the coffee pot, he stared at it in his hands. The metal shape, the sharp corner making the base of the pot, and the hot liquid filling its shell. This could do some damage, he thought. He carefully set the pot back on to the counter, and heard the ding signaling the departure of the masked intruder.

            Rob cautiously approached the counter to pay for his coffee and paper. "Crazy stuff, man", he said to Walter, trying to break the silence. The cashier was in a sweat and trembled as he counted out the dollar bills. "Why didn't you help?! You could have done something, even if it was just calling for help". Rob avoided eye contact and tried to force out a half-assed excuse, but he only stuttered. "Um.. uh... uh...".  Walter cut him off by shoving his change into Rob's fist and turned his back to him. "Get out of here". He left and went to work. 

            At the office, he stuck to his daily routine. He checked emails for 30 minutes, and afterwards he filled out metric reports in an ongoing excel file. At 10:30, he took a twenty minute coffee break to read the paper, and then it was back to his reports until lunch.

            This particular day was a Tuesday, which meant lunch was the Taco Tuesday special at Cantina Joe’s. Rob arrived and requested his usual booth. The waiter, Jim, never came around to ask Rob what he wanted because it was always the same. Instead, he greeted Rob with a plate of two chicken tacos; no lettuce, extra cheese, and salsa on the side. “Here you are, Rob. Eat up.”

            Rob sat there quietly, enjoying his lunch. He was just about finished with his lunch when Jim walked up to Rob’s table again with a margarita in hand. “Compliments of the woman at the bar”, he said, sitting the drink onto the table and sliding a napkin towards Rob. The napkin was scribbled with “Call me – (603) 542-0974. Joanne”. Rob looked down at the napkin and then back up to see a beautiful brunette woman in a black and white blouse smile and wave to him.

            He felt his ears get hot. He had never been hit on before, and this woman was a knockout. He knew she was way out of his league. He picked up the napkin and held the artifact gently between his fingers, analyzing every letter on the piece of paper. He then gently put the napkin back on the table, pulled out a ten dollar bill to pay his bill and left, leaving the napkin and the drink untouched.

            When Rob returned to work, he noticed he had a meeting request in his inbox with his boss, Mr. Johnson, at 4:30 p.m. He made a mental note and returned to work. He inputted number after number in the spreadsheet, melting away the hours until 2:30 when he took his afternoon break to stretch his legs and get away from his desk for a few minutes. He always walked one lap around the block of his building and then returned to his desk. It took fourteen minutes each time. He then sat down and worked diligently on his analysis report of all the data he had collected that day.  Rob shut down his computer at 4:27, because he knew it took roughly three minutes to walk upstairs to Mr. Johnson’s office.

            He knocked on Mr. Johnson’s door, and heard a faint “come in” from inside. Rob walked in and sat down. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Johnson?”.

            His boss paused for a second as if he was thinking over the words he was going to say very carefully.

            “Rob, we’ve been watching you for a while now. You do great work, and you are incredibly gifted”.

            “Thank you, sir. We?”

            “I mean it. You have talents that probably you yourself are unaware of.  Talents that I want you to tap in to”.

            “If you don’t think I work hard enough…”

            “This isn’t about your job performance, Rob. This isn’t really about work at all. This is about maximizing your potential in life. I have a proposition for you, if you’re interested”. He paused for effect, before continuing. “I am part of a secret society, fighting for our freedom in the universe. There is a war going on that is invisible to most, but it is there nonetheless”.

            “This is crazy. Secret society? Secret war? Where would I come in to this? I’m no fighter. I’m a data analyst.”

            “Precisely, and It’s your analytical skills I’m after, Rob. You can read into scenarios and extract truth from seemingly simple information. I see your monthly metric reports you turn in. I’ve never seen anyone so accurate with such penetrating insight. I think we can shape your skills into the makings of a great leader. There’s much you’ll have to learn. You will, of course, need to know how to fight. This is your destiny, though, Rob. Earth needs you. What do you say?”

            Rob felt a swelling sense of pride and patriotism, not just towards his country, but the whole planet. His life would finally have a purpose after all these years.

            Rob stood up and said with certainty, “no thank you, sir. I am not your man”, and then he walked out. Mr. Johnson was stunned.

            On his ride home, Rob thought about everything that happened to him that day, and he shuddered. It had always been his life’s goal to avoid any sort of change at all cost. The one joy Rob ever took out of life was consistency, and there were too many chances today to completely alter his life.

The way Rob saw it, he did not want to end up as some story people told. Stories always needed some sort of conflict or change to take place. If he was unchanging, he could keep to himself and live a normal life until he died. The last thing he ever wanted was for his life to be like some sort of book, where he has a great adventure and everything ties up neatly in the end with a sentence that summarizes the narrative’s themes. Something cheesy. Something along the lines of “nothing really ever stays the same”.