Ballard Street by Jerry Van Amerongen for February 25, 2012

Tony was feeling inadequate. He had a relatively easy life. How often had he heard people say they wanted the “easy life”? Ha! “You should try a life of retirement where your biggest challenge of the day is the same old ‘waffles or toast?’ conundrum followed by a slow shuffle to the only coffee shop in town for a skinny latte and an hour with last Christmas’s Readers’ Digest!”

He glanced bitterly at the two matronly women seated opposite. “They can probably do all kinds of difficult things. I bet their lives are full of exciting challenges. Look at them, swapping stories about winning the unicycle race at the Senior Citizens’ Rally and single handedly delousing a cat. I wish I could do something difficult”. He looked at his cardboard coffee cup. “I bet if I gave it a sudden hard squeeze and aimed it right, I could get the coffee to spurt through the little hole in the lid and into my mouth from right there on the table! That would show those broads they ain’t the only ones who can do tricky stuff”.

A little practice first, he thought. Placing both hands either side of the little round carton he delivered a sudden double karate chop. A stream of scalding brown liquid shot out of the lid and straight into his face, making his eyes sting. He clapped his hands to them in anguish and embarrassment. But nobody noticed.