Conditions of Life

The reality show Housewives of Wealthy Pricks was on the sixty thousand
and first channel. C and L were sitting on the couch in their living room
and watching the dull program, becoming genuinely enthused with every
showing of luxurious apartments that the Wealthy Pricks had built for
their Housewives and sincerely believing that the issues of those depicted
in the show were relatable to them.

***

C was coming home from his rather monotonous and unexciting job.
He was driving an old Honda and listening to a pesky pop song, the
lyrics of which never extended further than “baby, baby, oh, oh, I am
yours tonight, oh, oh, baby, baby.” He thought it wasn’t half-bad, but
that is what he usually thought of any song that had some rhythm and
a catchy, repetitive melody.

An advertisement poster ahead of him, which was conveniently placed
on the side of the road, said in large green letters, “your health is our
business.” A woman with a rather uninviting smile was featured on the
poster, dressed in a white lab coat. She held a thermometer and a stack
of dollars in her hands. He thought it was pretty clever, but that is what
he usually thought of any advertisement that he had seen on his way
home from work.

***

L was, once again, confronted with the dilemma she had to face every
single day at work: the choice of where she would go to get lunch. Her
lunch break was really the only time throughout the day when she could
get out of the cubicle in the office, to which she had been assigned eight
years prior; she gladly accepted the offer of employment at that office.
She thought it was a good deal for a recent college graduate, at the time.

Having chosen McDonald’s, she got in her old Toyota and drove to the
closest franchise. At the ordering window, she was greeted by her old
friend from college who had studied literature and classical art; they
briefly spoke about the weather, and she gave him her order for the day’s
meal. At the checkout window, she was asked whether she, “would like
to donate three dollars to help misfortunate college students pursue their
dreams.” She happily gave four.

***

C and L were in a hospital. L had gotten ill, gravely. C had gone broke
with paying the bills for surgery and treatment. He had not eaten in a
couple of days; just had an orange juice and a few cigarettes he had
gotten from a co-worker. He was sitting beside her bed. It was a Saturday
night. The TV, which was attached to the wall, was yelling something
out about the election: the anchormen were speaking with the anchor-women, and the anchorwomen were speaking with the anchormen.
They were discussing the healthcare crisis.

***

“Is this life?”

“Yes, it is.”