How long does this last again? Eh, it’s not that cold out. I’ll be fine. I’ve got my jacket. I wonder who is driving the truck this is hitched to? Should I scoot my chair back a little? I’m not that close to the edge, but things could go wrong. No. No, I will not think about it this way. That’s negative thinking. My therapist said I should make a conscientious effort to squash negative thinking. It’s a Christmas parade! This is a happy place.
Ah, we’re moving now, a good slow crawl. What float is this again? I don’t remember what group this represents, I just was told “look for the red flatbed with the inflatable Snoopy on it.” Maybe this isn’t a group, just a kindly soul who is enthusiastic about Christmas parades. I did it all because she asked me to and I like her. Is it infantile the way I approach potential relationships now that I’m in my 30s? There I go talking like my therapist again. Maybe that’s good? I dunno.
Smile, wave, toss candy to kids. That’s all I have to do. I can do that, I can appear jolly for the season. Now why on Earth am I feeling this way? Oh, hell. Is this the seasonal depression kicking in? I never thought I’d have an existential crisis about my life while sitting on a Christmas parade float, but hello new and uncharted frontier! There’s my Aunt in the crowd, better say “hello” and toss some peppermints her way.
Why does that guy up the street look familiar to me? Is that…is that? Yeah, that’s the jackass who made my life a living hell during High School. I’m gonna throw some candy at him for sure. Maybe throw it with more gusto than usual? Maybe throw it with just a little bit of intended force behind it? This is a bag full of Brach’s after all–the hard candy that can leave a welt if thrown properly. What am I saying? This is Christmas! I can’t take my vengeance out on an old enemy at Christmastime. Then again, “Die Hard” is set at Christmas.
I’m glad I didn’t beat him with candy. I’m glad I held my hand to my face to look like I was coughing as we went by and whispered obscenities at him. Jackass. Turning a corner now, figuratively and literally. How much longer does the route go? Feels like it’s been at least an hour so far. I’m out of candy, better look behind me for another bag. Ah, there are none. The whole float is out of candy. Guess I’ll just smile and wave till this thing ends. Can’t be much longer, can it? Will it take me back to my car? I hope so. I guess I could text a friend to pick me up if need be. Maybe I’ll make it home before sundown. Maybe. I hope so.