“I’ve recently concluded that I want to be a father”, says a fat balding man to his winsome young lunch companion.
“The thing is, it’s no longer an option for me to live my life just for me” continues the man as he wipes mayonnaise from his mustache.
The girl looks perplexed by this unexpected burst of honesty, she wonders how on earth she finds herself eating lunch with people like this and squints her eyes for a moment mentally chastizing herself for passively agreeing to go out with this guy --It’s just lunch she remembers telling herself, it’s nothing serious yet here he is telling her that he wants to have children--she fights her gag reflex as he continues talking,
“The way I look at it there are only three options one has as a person with a secular view of the world.”
What the fuck is he talking about? Wonders the girl nearing a state of panic. She wonders if she’s ethically capable of telling him she’s going to the washroom and then sneaking out the window.
“You can focus your life on your career, which is the most selfish of the three options. It’ll keep your mind busy but it’s hard to imagine that it will bring you much peace inside. Without a wife to answer to, a successful career man will more likely than not find himself living a really decadent life; he’ll search for fulfillment in the arms of high-class escorts or lose himself completely to drugs and gambling.”
That’s a first, thinks the girl, she’s definitely never been on a first date with a guy who casually brings up the inevitability of single men seeing prostitutes.
“The second option is to dedicate your life to your family, I’ve always shied away from this option because I could never see the point. I’d ask myself, why would I want to bring another creature into such a flawed world? Nobody asks to be born, we’re just thrown into this crazy zoo with almost no ability to deal with the pointlessness of it all.” The girl makes a face that a more observant man would take as a cue to change the subject but the man continues, “I love kids, I love picking them up by their ankles and calling them names. But the trouble with kids is that they become adults; complicated, brooding adults that in the end will probably blame you for not preparing them for the harshness of it all.”
This guy’s gotta be a serial killer or at least a dangerous misanthrope, thinks the girl as she sinks into her chair.
“But you know what? Who am I to question the way things are done? My parents might not have been perfect and I’ve faced my share of disappointments in life and love, but overall, I’ve had some pretty great surprises. People can be pretty great to each other when you give them the chance. Things operate pretty smoothly on earth considering no one's really in charge. I mean there’s no god on a thrown of vapor looking out for us all. You know what I mean?” Before the girl can answer the man continues, “ so I mean why not pump out a few more dirtbags into the world, at least then you’ll have someone to look after you when you’re old.”
The girl swallows and gives in to her curiosity, “so what’s the third option?”
“The third option’s only for the most selfless people in society, the people unlike myself that really want to change the world for the better one brick at a time. You know, altruist humanitarian types. And I’m not talking about politicians and diplomats. I’m talking about people that actually go build huts for African kids, serve soup to the homeless every single day. Anyway I feel like I’ve been doing all the talking, tell me about yourself.”
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