Consequences of Inertia

It started with the little things. Like not being able to get a parking spot in front of his house for the third day in a row. Or when he went to his favorite burger bar only to be told they were out of buns, but could give him a lettuce wrap instead—um, no. Diego really started to suspect that his luck had turned when his dog Bruno got sick, seemingly out of nowhere. The dog recovered but inexplicably began leaning to the left when he walked, his previously expressive giant brown eyes replaced with a pleading, vacant look. Diego could barely stand to look at his beloved dog who now seemed a shadow of his former self.

Diego’s sick dog alone didn’t necessarily mean that the world had tilted on its axis. But when his girlfriend of two years became evasive with even the slightest of questions, he knew something wasn’t right. His suspicions were confirmed when she came home one afternoon and told him that she was moving out, with no explanation. Just like that, she told him she was done and needed to pursue “a more fulfilling relationship”. True, he had taken Lola for granted, but she had seemed to need so little from him. In his own way, Diego loved her with everything he had, which he now saw was not nearly enough. The fact that she didn’t want to talk about it or try to work it out left him feeling utterly confused. He had no idea how to fix this, because he hadn’t even known anything was wrong.

Diego sought solace from Bruno, who he could see was not actually recovered and possibly hanging on by a thread.

He was still processing Lola’s sudden departure when his boss called him into his office the following Friday afternoon. Diego knew it was never good to get called into the boss’s office at the end of the day. He had a sense of floating away from his body as his boss smiled at him sympathetically, also not a good sign from this usually gruff man. Diego was able to piece together that he wasn’t being fired but was instead being put on "contractor status", to be called back in when the company got more projects. Diego knew that his company had been getting fewer and fewer clients, but he never expected to be hit with the cold hard realization that he was dispensable.

Not just expendable at work, but also to his girlfriend. Former girlfriend, Diego reminded himself, still in disbelief. He had never experienced this sense of worthlessness, of being untethered to a person or purpose.

Until now, things had come easily to Diego. Not that he hadn’t worked hard, but there was a difference between working hard down a predictable, clear path and laboring toward a completely unknowable future. Diego had made decisions based on what was immediately in front of him, and it had always worked out. He didn't think he was privileged or spoiled—he was just lucky. Or he had been just lucky.

Now Diego needed a Plan B. The fact that he no longer had a girlfriend or a job gave him hours to wallow in a state of forlorn self-absorption. Because he had felt so secure in his job, he hadn’t updated his resume or Linked-In profile in years, which was making him feel even more irrelevant. Lola would have helped him update his resume, but now she was gone. Poof. He hadn’t heard even a single word from her in weeks, when he thought about her every day. Diego had no idea how he had become so unnecessary.

***

Diego met his friends for their weekly basketball game on Thursday. They knew he had lost his job, but no one made a big deal about it. The girlfriend thing, though, was a different story. It was a chance for his married friends to live vicariously through him with their fantasies of his wild hookups. Diego brushed them off, claiming he was too focused on finding another job. But the truth was, he couldn’t imagine being with another woman besides Lola. Diego hadn’t acknowledged the depth of his feelings for her during their relationship, which, if he was honest, amounted to a near-parasitic dependency on her.

Diego took solace in the distraction that playing an intense game with his friends would bring. All week he had looked forward to the pleasure he felt in winning (they all reluctantly agreed he was the best player), the trash-talking that inevitably followed. But tonight, he missed shot after shot, and he noticed that his friends were unusually subdued in their critique of his game. Nobody called him out on his shitty performance--instead, they responded with things like “no worries, dude, you’ll get the next one” or “maybe you’re just tired.” That was a very bad sign, especially when they wouldn’t let him buy the first round at their usual post-game bar down the street. The loser always bought the first pitcher. So what did this make him?

***

Diego plowed ahead with his efforts toward a Plan B. He had no idea whether he should pursue his same career path, or if he should finally think about what he ACTUALLY wanted to do. He had known all along that he had no passion for his previous work at the architectural firm—he thought the guys were a bunch of pretentious assholes. But they had left him pretty much alone to churn out his work, and no one complained if he was a day or two late with his drawings. He liked the steady work that supported his passive lifestyle.

Without work, Diego had settled into a new routine, but this one didn’t feel so comfortable. Gone were the predictable days of coming home from work to one of Lola’s elaborate dinners, which he had grown to expect without giving her any acknowledgment or appreciation. Diego had figured her satisfaction was seeing him finish his meal. Lola never complained, though, until she just left.

Diego thought about taking Bruno for a walk, but ever since his mystery illness, Bruno only seemed interested in walking in endless circles and barking at the air. He knew he should probably take Bruno to the vet, but that would cost money that now didn't come so easily. Lola would have called the vet and made an appointment, but Diego couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone.

Diego was about to grab his leftover burrito from the fridge when he heard a commotion outside his front window. The sound of metal grinding grew louder and he saw that the sound was coming from the direction of his car. He opened his front door in time to see his car being dropped onto the flatbed of a massive tow truck. His beloved bright red Ford Mustang, with only a few payments remaining until it was officially his. Diego flashed onto a memory of several past due notices he had ignored, actually thinking that maybe Lola had taken care of them. He couldn’t remember making a payment in the last six months.

Diego watched his former car grow smaller in the distance, bouncing slightly on the back of the flatbed. His feet felt like cement as he couldn’t bring himself to protest the repossession. It was then that he knew for certain that his luck had turned. 

***

A feeling of desperation crept into Diego’s daily existence. It took him awhile to recognize it, as this feeling was completely foreign to him. He was used to the world unfolding as he expected it to. He had passively accepted what seemed to just fall into his lap.

Diego had never before consciously made decisions, so he was unsure how to infuse any agency into his existence. He suspected he needed to essentially do the exact opposite of what he had done before, which was decide nothing. How could he now start to decide everything?

He thought about looking for signs from the universe. Maybe he could use the weather as a guidepost: if the wind is from the west, I’ll go for a run. If there are cumulus clouds to the east, I’ll call my mom. If it rains, I’ll pay my bills. That sort of thing. But was that really making a decision? Diego reasoned that the very act of coming up with a rationale for making decisions was actually making a decision.

Diego finally determined that the unpredictable nature of weather made this method of decision-making flawed. He thought something more consistent would be better, such as making decisions based on what day of the week it was. He would only do dishes on days that have an “n” in them. Or, did it make more sense to assign values for different days of the week, in advance? Like Monday would be the day Diego would say no to everything, no matter what. Down to if he was at the grocery store and the cashier asked if he needed bags, he would say no even if he hadn’t brought any. But then he would have to decide how to get the groceries out to his car without bags. Into the car that he no longer had.

Diego felt exhausted and disgusted with himself that he seemed to lack any rational decision-making skills. How had it come to this? Just two months ago he was a fully functional adult, with a good paying job and a girlfriend he loved. Now he couldn’t even take his grandmother to her monthly doctor visit because he no longer had a car.

Gut-wrenching realization continued to set in as Diego now understood that he had lost the best thing he ever had. It wasn’t his job or his car. It was Lola. She had been his compass, his sounding board, his best friend. He had taken her for granted, only ever, endlessly, thinking of himself. He never set out to hurt anyone, and that was the whole point, he never set out to do anything.

***

It became clear to Diego that he needed to fight for Lola. He had to plead his case and hope that she took him back. But he remained paralyzed with indecision. How would he approach her? And when? Or should he casually/intentionally run into her in hopes that she would see how much she missed him?

Diego needed a sign from the universe. That was a way of making a decision, wasn’t it? He looked over at Bruno and had what he thought was a flash of brilliance. Maybe Bruno could be his proxy decision-maker. If Bruno stood up and barked, Diego would call Lola. If he turned in clockwise circles, he’d send flowers to her at work. If Bruno made counter-clockwise circles, Diego would drive over to Lola’s house tonight.

After he took a shower, shaved, and made sure to put on a clean shirt, of course.

Diego waited. Bruno remained curled up in a ball, shivering slightly. Bruno seemed to be shirking his proxy decision-maker duties.

Diego was lost in reverie when there was a timid knock on his door. He stood up slightly to peer through the window. It took him a few seconds to register that it was Lola.

She looked somewhere between apprehensive and irritated. She was every bit as beautiful as he remembered, her long dark hair trailing down her back, her tall frame accented by a sleeveless yellow dress.

Diego watched her standing at the door, trying to plan the right words. He knew he looked like shit, possibly even smelled like it. He also knew then that he had never deserved Lola, but couldn’t believe that fate brought her to his door. Once again, without making a decision, he was presented with an opportunity. One that he couldn’t afford to squander.

Diego made his way to the door, smoothing his hair as he tried not to look too eager. He pushed the door open and there she was.

“Lola, I'm so glad you’re here!” Diego said, while debating whether he should give her a hug. He decided that might be too forward, so instead stood stone still, waiting for her to speak. He couldn’t read her expression while she remained standing six feet away from him.

“Where’s your car?” was the first thing she asked, seeing the empty parking spot directly in front of his house. Even if “his” spot was taken when he came back from somewhere, he always parked it there once the spot opened up. Usually leaving Lola to find a parking spot much further down the street. Diego now realized that was a pretty shitty thing to do to his girlfriend, especially on the nights she worked the late shift at the restaurant.

“Um, I don’t have that car anymore. It, well, kind of got repossessed.”

Her face fell, but Diego sensed that she wasn’t that surprised. “Oh Diego, I thought you made those payments. Remember when I told you about all of those phone calls?” He had a vague recollection of Lola interrupting him while he was playing Halo, but at the time, he had assumed she was just telling him that she was making the payments.

“I don’t know; I guess I just forgot. Things have been a little weird around here. My boss kind of laid me off and Bruno has been sick. Pretty much ever since you left.”

Just then, Bruno woke up and saw Lola standing there. Looking miraculously cured, he jumped up and down and ran toward her.

Lola scooped him up in her arms and he began licking her face with unbridled enthusiasm. Just then, Diego remembered that Bruno had actually been Lola’s dog. Maybe seeing Bruno would remind Lola of how happy they had all been. Diego would promise her that from now on, he’d put her first. Whatever she needed, he was prepared to give her. He would become the new and improved Diego, someone she could actually look at with pride.

He felt his luck turning back, and finally grasped just how lucky he had been before. Diego wasn’t going to blow it this time.

He noticed that Lola hadn’t moved any closer to him, and she wasn’t holding a suitcase, or even an overnight bag.

Lola cleared her throat and looked at Diego with the kindest eyes he had ever seen. “Actually, Diego, I’m here to take Bruno home.”