A Pompous Ass and Gummy Bears

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. 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 jams and marmalades 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 young couples all over the world. You don’t need much when you are in love, either with a person or life—preferably both.

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—something that made me feel very important. All of a sudden, we could afford things, we 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 the 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 shocking design, a book that I had read before, and wine I didn’t like. 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, but I continued to play my part in a story that I had created.

A small birthday 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 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.

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, 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 Fish, 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.

Now looking back, I think that was the best gift I ever received, because it set my head straight.

Daily writing prompt

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

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