Disparity

     I met a man in Washington state near the Oregon border that was quite different from me. Our impromptu rendezvous occurred in a McDonald's parking lot. Mickey D's has become one of our favorite spots to stop because of the free wi-fi and dollar iced teas. So there it was that my path and this man's crossed, and we couldn't have been headed in more different directions.
    
     It was late afternoon, and we had stopped to try and figure out our night's accommodations. We sat there in the parking lot, maps spread open, atlases dog-eared, laptop up and running and jacking into McD's wi-fi. The man walked past us and did a double take. He glanced at our NJ license plates, smirked, and said to his two kids, "Now they look lost!" He walked inside, and we continued our search.

     15 minutes later or so, he and his offspring sauntered out, bellies full. He stopped by my window, and the following conversation took place:

          Man - "You fellas still here? Where you headed?"
          Myself - "Oh, hi! We're driving across the country."
          Man - "Well, you made it, haha! So, where you headed now?"
          Myself - "Um...south..."
          Man - "Hmmm...where in particular south?"
          Myself - "I dunno. Somewhere on the coast, probably."
          Man - "Huh. Well, good luck to you, boys."

     At this point, the man walked away, shaking his head to himself and looking slightly perplexed. He was trying to be helpful, and while I certainly appreciated the attempt, I could tell he just didn't understand. Here was a man who probably had every day of his life planned out until he died. I judged him to be a "soccer dad." He had a perfectly coiffed hair, a hip windbreaker, and loafers to go with his pressed jeans. I assume he was taking the kids to McDonald's after one of their sports practices or dance recitals. After their fast-food dinner, I'm sure it was off to home, for a few hours of TV while the kids did their homework. Perhaps one beer if the mood struck him.

      I, on the other hand, was wearing the same clothes for a third day in a row. My Chevy Cavalier was dirty, dusty, and splattered with countless dead bugs. All my possessions that mattered were stuffed in the backseat, and the trunk was not too far from busting at the seams. I was in dire need of a shower, and my hair stuck out wildly like a mad scientist.

     He was in the midst of his normal weekday routine, and I was poring over maps on the roadside trying to figure out what was next. He had his retirement carefully accounted for and planned out, while I didn't even know where I'd be spending that night. As I lay on the hard ground later, under the stars, I thought of that man. He probably just put the kids to bed, and he and the wife were on opposite ends of the couch reading, with the TV quietly droning in the background. The weekend was coming up soon, and maybe they were discussing which Applebee's in town to go to with the kids on Friday. Also, the fiscal year was coming to an end soon, and he might be thinking about upping his 401k contribution this year to 15%, to make sure he and the wife would definitely be able to afford that place in Boca Raton when he retired in 17 and a half years.

     So I drifted off to sleep that night, thinking of the differences between myself and that man, and also wondering if maybe he was thinking of me as he drifted off. Thinking about that wild-haired, grimy, 20-something from across the country he ran into while taking the kids for a treat. That devil-may-care wanderer without a thought for the future, off to unknown destinations and adventures.