PICNIC
(Illustrated by Felicia Cantu)
I was 18 working at subway when a drug dealer started working at the pizza shop two doors down. My best friend and I would go to his house to pick up our supply, somehow always being talked into staying. We’d sit on the beige floral couch listening to Wu-Tang Clan drinking PBR’s and smoking blunts. Until then it hadn’t dawned on me that drug dealers would want to befriend their buyers. My previous drug dealer would only ever meet me in the Kmart parking lot in the middle of the night. I would come to realize that the majority of my drug dealers over the years had very little friends if any. Was it the job, was it their age, or the age of their clients? Most wouldn’t want you to leave after picking up your order, tricking you into friendship by offering you free drugs. I felt bad for them at the time, not quite understanding why they legitimately didn’t have friends. They were generally nice people.
I eventually got sober in my 30’s after I realized that physically and mentally I was completely off the rails. Unhinged without provocation and by all definition had lost the plot. Most of my friends had fizzled after I became sober. Leaving only clients and a hand full of friends; whom, the majority came with fine print. No matter how many times I invited or asked someone to hangout I would almost always get “I’m busy”. That is unless they needed something, so hangouts often ended with me having work, a deadline, or an overwhelming feeling of being used. If by chance they didn't bring up work the hangout was entirely under their terms. I had a friend once say to me when I asked "would you ever wanna go on a hike or something" having grown tired of the dinners we were having. Reply back with "ehh… well you're kind of my dinner friend, we just do dinners, okay." The last hangout I had with a different friend was the first time I had seen them in 6 months. The few texts over the 6 month gap was filled with me saying "Well let me know when you're free, I'll make anytime work." I was always met with "yeah, I'll let you know." So when I finally got a green light on a day to hangout I was excited, I had missed them. It was exactly 6 mins after I arrived before I was interrogated about business strategies. Until I was sent on my way because I was only penciled into their schedule for 2 hours. I drove home debating if I should send an invoice for our hangout and the hour drive I had made.
Today people flooded the park during my afternoon walk carrying picnic platters and blankets. 30 somethings sprawled out in fields of invasive daises like real life Urban Outfitter campaigns. I watched in envy asking myself how I could partake in the festivities. But after assessing the 2.5 friends who didn’t have fine print, but require advance notice, I realized I was out of luck. I could only look at these strangers wishing they had a little blanket and snack to share for this stranger. I sat in the car cooling off crying under my sunglasses, sitting there with tears and sweat streaming down my face. Scrolling through Instagram trying not to feel sorry for myself watching tiny dogs and Nanalan’, but couldn't avoid the elephant in the car when my feed started to fill with stories of picnic recaps I wasn't a part of.
Years ago after being alone for long lengths of time I realized that you could fill your life with activities and goals to the point you don’t get lonely. That is until one day you lift your head up in a park, look around realizing no one invited you to the spring party. You understand how your drug dealer felt when you walked out of his house with your sandwich bag of weed after taking his free drugs. I ended up sitting in my car wondering is this a world of my own making, a delusion of my own insecurities, or if we really do live in a capitalistic society where the majority of people are just using each other. Maybe it was much simpler than that and I was just bad at picking friends or I didn't realize I had a huge character flaw that no one wanted to point out. I don't know I guess I'll just have to sit in the car alone thinking about it, while I watch other people through the window enjoying their picnics.