There was nothing i could have done
The overconfident man didn’t know what broke him. Somehow, he’d found himself late in life with more problems than answers, one stacking up on top of another like a game of Jenga. Anyone else would have been careful with their moves, but he pulled from the stack carelessly. It could all topple over at any moment. He should have been up to catch the bus to his sister’s wedding, but he was still snoozing, dreaming, not a care in the world, cause he knew that it would all work out for him like it had been working out for him since he was a sperm.
The night before, he’d looked at the alarm app on his phone and toyed with different times he could wake up. He’d set up multiple alarms—then, at the last moment, turned them all off. He’d decided he didn’t need an alarm. An event as important as his only sister’s wedding was not something his body would allow him to miss. He was fully confident he would be able to wake up with no help at all from an alarm. So he’d gone to bed. He wouldn’t have admitted to anyone that he felt uneasy, that it took a little longer than usual to fall asleep, that he woke up several times in the middle of the night in a panic. When he finally fell into deep sleep, it was late in the night, and when it came time to get up, his body was still repairing itself.
He did eventually wake up, almost an hour and a half later than he should have. He opened his eyes and it took a moment to register. He shot out of bed, looked frantically for his phone, and when he couldn’t find it, picked up the alarm clock and looked at its face. He threw it on the ground and ran to the bathroom. He didn’t have time for a shower. He turned the bathroom sink faucet to max and ran his hands through the water. He picked up soap and scrubbed wildly, first his face, then his pits, his neck. He washed the soap off and dried off. Then he proceeded to put on his black tux that was waiting for him, hung in his closet.
He needed to catch a bus to the venue; it was the most direct way to get there. He could have gotten an Uber or a Lyft, but it was a perfectly good bus. He was frugal and practical. At that moment he could have checked the bus schedule, but he had a good feeling. He would be perfectly on time. On an important day like this, his body would be in tune with the universe. The moment he got to the bus station, he was confident that the bus would show up and whisk him away to the wedding venue. So he rushed to get on his clothes, put on his shoes and cologne, then ran out of the apartment.
He power-walked to the bus stop, which was a short walk from his apartment. He couldn’t run; his shoes were stiff and uncomfortable. They were the least expensive set he could find.
When he turned the corner and saw the bus pulling away, his heart sank. How could this be? He relented, pulled out his phone, and saw that the next bus wouldn’t come for another hour. He would have to wait there or call an Uber, which he would hate to do, but it was his sister’s wedding, and he just had to be there. He got closer to the bus stop and noticed a taxi, the only vehicle nearby, standing there like it was waiting for him. He jogged over and rapped his knuckles on the passenger side door. The driver rolled the window down and grunted at him. He gave the man the address, and the man nodded for him to hop in the back seat. As he sat down, the man pointed to a sign taped to the headrest of the passenger seat: CASH ONLY. No problem, he thought. He dove into his pockets to pull out his wallet, but his hands found only the texture of cheap synthetic fabric. Shit.
He looked at the man and tried to explain that he’d forgotten his wallet. He had Apple Pay though; he pulled out his phone and showed him. The man locked eyes with him through the rearview mirror. “CASH ONLY.” He flailed his arms and tried to explain that it was his sister’s wedding day. The man didn’t seem to care, or he didn’t understand. He unlocked the doors, turned around, and shoved at him until he got out. He stood on the street in a panic. He looked at the bus schedule, hoping for a miracle, maybe another route. But there was nothing. He pulled up his rideshare app, but he was out in the boonies and the nearest driver would take about the same time as the bus. Fuck, how could he let this happen?
He called his sister—no answer. He started walking back home. It just wasn’t meant to be. He had tried his best, but everything was working against him. He would explain it to his sister later, at the dinner. Why he’d had to miss her wedding. How there was nothing he could have done.