(found in that circle, the one cut out of Randy’s big donut)
I’m sorry to disappoint you, and I’m sorry because you’ve got talent. You’ve got talent somewhere, I’m sure. The problem is that it’s just not on the surface. You’ve got to do a little more digging, or maybe try digging in a different spot.
You learn some things over the years, kid. Some of the lessons are easy, you know, happy things like what it means when the pretty girl with the fake boobs smiles at you from across the pool. But most of the lessons are hard, you know, like what it means when that pretty girl frowns at you and reaches for your drink. But hey, at least you’re still getting wet.
Kid, I’ll tell you something, just because I’ve seen you so much that I’m starting to think of you like a son or something. I grew up out in the sticks, about as far from this hellhole as you could think. Of course I didn’t figure out the hellhole part of this city until I’d already sold my soul to a guy who turned out to be the devil, but that’s a different story.
When I was little, I’d play football indoors with my dad. He always wanted me, some puny kid with glasses, to be an athlete, a star.
We’d always play tackle, and he’d kneel down on the carpet. He’d usually let me score whenever I wanted, but sometimes he’d squat right in front of the wall and tell me to rush at him. I’d run full speed, with my head down and all that, right to him. When I was maybe six inches from the wall, he’d hold his arm out and catch me against his elbow.
He’d hold me there, right in place. He’d tell me to keep trying and to keep driving my legs, and I’d squirm and squirm and fight and go nowhere.
Eventually he’d let me go. I’d jump forward and smack my face right against the wall. Every time he held me like that, I’d fight and kick, and every time I’d end up smacking my face right against that wall. Sometimes I’d be fine. Sometimes I’d bruise my nose or cut my lip. At least, though, I always scored. That’s what I thought.
Kid, what I didn’t know way back then was that sometimes you gotta give up. Sometimes you gotta stay clean and you gotta stay strong. There’s no use just getting your face bloody over a bunch of nonsense that doesn’t mean much anyway.
Long story short is this. You were fine, just fine, but you aren’t getting the job. We appreciate your tenacity and your spirit. It’s all very endearing, but try something else for a change. Stop sending me your headshots.
But kid, remember, you got a future at least.
Jon Glass, CSA
Please check out the other great submissions to this week’s writing challenge here:
- along the hem of | y
- Age Illusions and Disillusions: Men and Women Turning Thirty (Weekly Writing Challenge) | Ana Linden
- Mourning the end of a Chapter | A Fit and Focused Future
- Premiere… | Words ‘n Pics…
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Golden Years | The Willows Weeped
- A Hand Across the Ages | Toss the Typewriter
- That Age Old Question | Life’s Unfiltered Ramblings
- You know those giant pill holders? I have one. | poema
- The 18th of August 1941 – Germantown, Maryland | Forgotten Correspondence
- Things I cannot change | Lesie’s World
- The Golden Years | Starting Write Now
- A Soundtrack to the Ageing Process | Fun with Depression
- Golden Years | Jennifer Paige
- The Loss of Youth | adventures in adulting*
- Weekly Writing Challenge:Golden Years | Simply about Life
- Sorry Stevie | fifty5words
- Middle March | Love in the Spaces
- Oh No! I’ve Turned Into My Own Mom Parenting A Child Who Is Just Like Me | . . . Furthest Sense
- Effectively Ageless | rarasaur
- Golden Years | hello from Sandy
- Positive(ly) thought(less) | soulfoood
- Into the unknown | Colour the moment
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Golden Years | Purplesus’ Blog
- Age ain’t nothin’ but a number… | The Mrs. Z Files
- On Being Where I Am | Imperfect Happiness
- The Sociopath At The High School Reunion | Glorious Results Of A Misspent Youth
- Maybe Not | Glorious Results Of A Misspent Youth
- My own individual, stubborn, uncooperative often self-centered nature that still doubts itself | An Upturned Soul
- DP Challenge: How I made myself old | one hundred thousand beats per day
- Playing the Generation Game | I’m Drew Llew, how do you do?
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Golden Years, 13.03.14 | Markie’s Daily Blog
- My Memories – Oops, I Mean Memoirs – Weekly Writing Challenge: Golden Years | writesomethingtoday
- I’m Young, Get Over It | Victim to Charm
- Centenary Sparkle | litadoolan
- Weekly Writing Challenge – Golden Years | Joe’s Musings
- It’s All a State of Mind | The Silver Leaf Journal
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Golden Years | MAGGIE’S BLOG
- Golden Years | Random & Real
- Recess | Arriving at Departure
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Golden Years | Contemplating Death | undefined by design
- Age is an illusion… | Danubelle
- What Does Age Say About You? | Stuphblog
- Puffing and Panting. | Trucker Turning Write
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Golden Years |
- What is it about 40? | Forty, c’est Fantastique !
- Waiting For The Golden Years | Life in a Basket
- Finding Our Way | Icelandica
- Aging the American Way – Evelyne Holingue
- goldenage | walktalk
- No Inspiration | Live, Love and Dance
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Golden Years – Why I Am Not Looking Forward To Turning 30 | So I want to be an author…