The Fall of the First Hair

     I have done all I can.  I have stood tall, been cut short, and suffered stiffening goop, deadening chlorine, the burning rays of the sun, and suffocating sweat.  I have been attacked by swarms of parasites and been forced to sacrifice all that I have to defeat them.  I have sheltered him from the sun and done all asked of me as one of his unthanked wingmen.

     I will not be missed.  I am only one of several thousand.  My friends, brothers, and sisters may shed a tear or two but I doubt it.  I have heard some of them complain about the same things, but I am at my end.  They may still be able to hold on.

     It is thus that I bid you adieu.

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     Jon stood a top the highest building he could find, the wind ruffling his hair.  A small crowd had begun to grow below.  Police pounded on the stairway door, their muffled cries ignored.

     He lost his job.  His last girlfriend literally kicked him in the groin on her way out of his life.  He was never good enough at home, grades not high enough, job not respectable enough, income too low.

     Was it his fault he loved what he did?  How could he be blamed for the customer not enjoying his company's product?  But he was.  He did not describe it well enough, did not say the right facts, did not sell it well enough.  But Jon did not like lying.  He liked his job, the company, the products, but it was not good enough.

     The sex was terrible.  Well, actually she couldn't get enough of it.  Jon worked long hours because he loved it.  She wanted more.  More jewels, better food, more time, more sex.  It was never good enough.  She found someone who was taller, stronger, with better hair, and drove a Bentley.  She called him weak, spineless, and gutless.  For good measure she gave Jon a kiss on the cheek and a knee to the groin right before she left him writhing in pain on the apartment floor.  Her new lover spitting on his face as they walked out.

     He couldn't tell his macho father.  He'd repeat the same words of disappointment.  Maybe he'd cuff him once around the ear.  Didn't matter that he'd graduated forth in his class, he should have been valedictorian.  It didn't matter that he worked at a Fortune 500 company, he should be someone's boss.  It didn't matter who he dated, she was never pretty enough.  Attainable perfection always out of his reach.

     Jon was done.  He stepped off.

     To add to his pain, he had noticed a hair in his sink before he climbed to the roof.