CHORUS.

"Bob."
A less than ordinary name,
The Christian Smith.
Unchangeable, both back and front.
Undesirable.
Much like our hero.

Not a face,
But a number.
Alive,
Yet dead.

His work,
Less than ordinary.
Soon to be replaced with a calculator.

And his quest,
Or lack thereof.
One which most would find,
Less
Than
Ordinary.

Beginning with his life,
Since the raw age of eighteen.
The same.
The same.
The same exact life.
For twenty years.
Each day may as well be the next.
We then move on.
To the beginning,
Of The End.
The less than ordinary end of Bob.
Ashes to ashes.
Number to statistic.
Dust to dust.

ACT ONE.

Bob wakes up (again.)

Today is Tuesday
Bob is excited.
Bob has been looking forward to Tuesday ever since Thursday.
Bob does his shopping on "T-days"
He thinks it's clever.
Spends hours
Fantasizing.
About telling someone
"I do my shopping on T-days"
And having her
Someone, that is
Laugh and laugh.
But first…

Work.

Work is repetitive. Work is continuous. Work is unvaried. Work is recurrent.
Work is repetitive. Work is habitual. Work is iterant. Work is redundant.
Work is repetitive. Work is plodding. Work is tedious. Work is relentless.
Work is repetitive. Work is repetitive. Work is repetitive. Work is repetitive.

One plus one plus one plus one...
Times thirty-eight...
Divided by ninety...
Minus four billion...
Et cetera.
Et cetera.
Et cetera.

Drive home.
Change clothes.
Brush teeth.
Go shopping.

MegaMart.

Where was Bob,
Before MegaMart?
He can't even remember...
“MegaMart,
We’ve Got It All!”
Their slogan reads.
And indeed they do.
Bob need go nowhere else.

-Aisle One-
Slips of paper.
Organized from birth to death.
“Congratulations, it’s a boy!”
“To the best grandson in the universe!”
“Wow! You’re TEN!”
“Will you be my valentine?”
“Tying the knot? Way to go!”
“Happy Father’s day!”
“To the best granddad in the universe!”
“Deepest sympathies for your loss.”
“Congratulations, it’s a girl!”

-Aisle Two-
Toasters.
Toaster ovens.
Microwave ovens.
Electronic
Home
Appliances.
Blenders.
Slicers.
Dicers.
Home hair cutting kits.
Waffle irons
In steel red and teal blue.

-Aisle Three-
On the left,
Hair care for women.
On the right,
Hair care for men.

-Aisle Four-
Is food.

-Aisle Five-
Is food.

-Aisle Six-
Is food.

-Aisle Seven-
Is tooth brushes and soaps and razors.
Is bed sheets and pillows and automatic alarm clocks.
Bathroom
Slash
Bedroom.

CDs and books
In -Aisle Eight-

-Nine-
-Ten-
-Eleven-
-Twelve-
All the way to –Twenty Eight-
Each with its own purpose.
Each loved,
By Bob.

After a visit to -Four-, -Six-, -Seven-, -Eighteen- and -Twenty three-
Bob’s ready for checkout.

Oh no.

It must be summer.
Bob hates summer.
In summer, they hire stupid kids to handle the registers at checkout.
Stupid kids who spend five minutes trying to get you the right change.
Stupid kids who do their best to act like they hate their job and you.
Stupid kids who then expect a tip. For cashiering.
This is why Bob hates summer.
At Register 12
(Bob’s favorite register)
There’s some stupid kid.
A girl.
Maybe eighteen.
She smiles at Bob.
And says she likes his tie.

Maybe summer isn’t so bad.

ACT TWO.

Bob wakes up (again.)

Today is Thursday.
Bob is excited.
Bob skipped his Wednesday night of television watching.
For the first time in nearly twenty years.
And went out to buy ties.

He woke up early this Thursday.
For the first time in nearly twenty years.
So he could have time to decide which tie to wear.
Blue and Green?
Red and Blue?
Black and Gold?
White with stars?
He holds them to his neck
In front of the bathroom mirror he bought at Mega Mart.
And practices saying,
“I have a coupon for these bottles of water.”

“I have a coupon for these bottles of water.”

“I have a coupon for these bottles of water.”

“I have a coupon for these bottles of water.”

“I have a coupon for these bottles of water.”

Should he just say bottles?
It sounds less formal
More friendly.
But then,
What if she thinks he’s talking about the soda bottles?
He’d look like a fool.
No.
The “of water” stays.
And he’s wearing the Red and Blue tie.
But first…

Work.

Boring.
Repetitive.
Monotonous.
Work.

One plus one plus one…
Times thirty-eight…
Divided by whatever…
Minus who cares…
Et cetera.
Et cetera.
Et cetera.

Drive home.
  He practices his coupon line in the car.
Change clothes.
  Blue Tie and all.
Brush teeth.
  Twice.
Go shopping.

MegaMart.

Who was Bob,
Before last Tuesday?
He can’t even remember…
Some loser.
With no purpose in life.
But now,
Now, Bob need go nowhere else.

After a visit to -One-, -Five-, -Eighteen- and -Twenty-
Bob’s ready for checkout.

Here we go.

“Hey, you again.”
“I have a coupon for these bottles of water.”
“Ooooh Kay, that makes your total…”
(39.75)
“…Forty-one, seventy five.”
Bob hands her the money in exact change,
(He had prepared himself for if she forgot to scan the coupon.)
She smiles,
“Thanks! You have a nice day sir.”
“Thank you…”
Bob looks at the red rectangle pinned to her uniform.
“…Kimberly.”
(What an extraordinary name.)
Her smile widens, revealing a perfect row of white teeth.
“Nice tie, by the way. You must get them somewhere fancy.”
(The Mega Mart on the other side of town.)

Bob tries to think of something more to say,
But Kimberly’s already helping the next person in line.

ACT THREE

Bob wakes up (For the first time in his life.)

Bob is elated.
He doesn’t care that it’s Friday.
He’s going to Mega Mart.
And giving Kimberly the card he bought in -Aisle One-.
With the two yellow jackets kissing on the front.
And the words “Bee Mine” Inside.
He’s going to tell her he thinks he loves her.
Then,
With his Black and Gold tie dangling over the conveyor belt
He’s going to kiss her.
But first…

He’s going to quit his job.

And take an application
For cashiering at Mega Mart.

As he drives to work,
Bob does something else he hasn’t done in nearly twenty years.
He smiles.
No matter how Kimberly reacts,
Bob knows he’ll be happy.
In five minutes,
When Bob gives his two weeks notice,
He’ll never be a number again.

Statistically speaking,
Over forty thousand people are killed in car accidents each year.

Bob died on impact.

Police would later try to find a woman named “Kimberly.”
To ask about the cheesy Hallmark card they found in the back of Bob’s car.
But could find no family or coworkers with an even similar name.
And Bob became just another less than ordinary statistic.

EPILOGUE

"Bob."
A less than ordinary name,
The Christian Smith.
Unfortunate.
Much like our unsung hero.

Death before salvation.
Two miles away
From a happy ending.

Ashes to ashes.

Number to statistic.

Dust to dust.

THE END