A Pompous Ass and Gummy Bears

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How did I become a pompous ass? I am not sure. I wasn’t raised to be arrogant, quite the opposite.

Money was tight when I was a child. We had everything we needed and made things work. There wasn’t room for any luxury articles. I think we were poor but honestly, I don’t know. I was never hungry, like all children who grew up on a farm, there was always enough to eat, and in boarding school, I traded my Grandma’s homemade jam successfully for deli meats I never tried before. I had a monthly allowance and I quickly learned that loans given to other children were rewarded with interest, either shillings (pennies) or candy -which I preferred.

Money was even tighter when I was a young adult -it was pretty much nonexistent. I was a poor student, and I married a man who didn’t have much more than I did. We made it work, like so many students all over the world. You don’t need much when you are in love, either with a person or life (preferably both). When everybody around you lives the same way you do it’s normal.

Then, almost overnight the time of studies was over, and we started our careers. I made good money right from the start, especially when I traveled. I even had an expense account – who would have thought that was possible. Overnight we could afford things and could spend money on items we didn’t need, and it felt good.

Around 30 years ago, right before my birthday, I decided to throw a big party for people I worked with. I was far away from home, and couldn’t fly back before the job was finished. I missed my husband, missed my friends, and I didn’t want to sit alone in a hotel room on my birthday. Surely I could celebrate somehow?

I made a reservation for ten people at a Sheraton Hotel downtown. I had called around, and they offered a fabulous buffet for ‘just’ $50 per person. $ 500 without tip, that was a lot of money back then -still is.

“What the Heck,” I thought, “It’s my birthday, and I will celebrate -even if I celebrate it with people I hardly know.” It was set in stone.

I felt so special that night when I entered the hotel. Everybody had shown up, and all of them were dressed nicely for the special occasion. Of course, they were there, who would miss an invitation, when a Pompous Ass like me paid for everything.

They even brought me presents, things that I didn’t need. A silk scarf with a startling design, a book that I had read before, and wine I didn’t drink. We were coworkers for just a couple of months. They didn’t know me, and I didn’t know them. Everybody was eating and laughing, they all had a good time -just inside of me it didn’t feel right. “Who were all these people and why was I here?”

I felt disconnected and alone. My smile and my laughter were just a facade, and I continued to play my part in a story that I had written.

A cake was served in my honor. The light was dimmed, three waiters came to our table and a beautiful chocolate cake with mirror icing was put in front of me. I blew out the candles, smiled, and wondered if I had forgotten to tell them that of all the cakes in the world, chocolate cake was my least favorite.

Then another co-worker arrived, a woman that I liked a lot. She apologized for being late, her babysitter hadn’t shown up, and she had her boy with her. He was 10 or 11 years old, a cute kid, very well-behaved. I had met him before and I liked him -and her.

The boy sat down beside me, congratulated me, and handed me a bag full of gummy bears and gummy candy. An assortment he had chosen in a candy store himself because he had heard that I always have gummy bears hidden in my desk.

He was right. To this day I love gummy bears, and they are wherever I am. Swedish Fishes, gummy worms, sour bears, I love them all. Now I eat them sugar-free or make them myself.

Of all the people that night, the kid was the only one who knew a little bit about me. The simple present meant more than the buffet, the cake, or all the extravagant gifts I had received. I smiled and hugged the boy. While the others enjoyed a piece of the birthday cake, we opened the bag of candy and both picked a long gummy snake. We laughed. I am sure nobody understood what it meant to me and how could they.

I always joke that it took 500 Dollars and a bag of gummy bears for me to see who I am. I will always be the girl who was raised on a farm. I don’t need pomp and glitter around me, I don’t need expensive presents or buffets, and I certainly don’t need to be a Pompous Ass to feel good about myself.

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Daily writing prompt

Share one of the best gifts you’ve ever received.

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