| He heard the doorbell ringing and he silently sighed. "So the first guests have arrived," he thought. He could hear his wife's footsteps as she went down the stairs from their bedroom on the second floor to open the door. The regular greetings, the exchange of pecks on the cheeks and soon they would be asking for him. After all, he was the reason they all gathered here. Today he turned 50, and the last thing he wanted was to celebrate this complex day with his extended family. But that's exactly what he was about to do. "I can't hide here forever," he muttered, turned off the lamp on his desk and headed towards the living room. |
| In less than an hour they were all there. More than 30 people filled the room and the noise became unbearable. The kids in particular. So many of them. He couldn't remember their names even if his life depended on it. He couldn't even associate them with their parents. Why the hell did they all show up? He wondered. He turned his gaze for what seemed to be the hundredth time at the antique vase they had bought two years ago during a vacation in Italy. His wife had insisted that they would keep it in its regular spot in the corner of the room. "The kids are old enough now," She said. "No one will bump into your vase." |
| He had never been the 'family type' and he never felt too comfortable during family event. But now it was different. Now he really detested them. He could recall only bad memories and disappointments. His sisters-in-law blunt and cruel objection to their marriage so many years ago. His opinionated uncles' advice not to "rush into things" when he left his job to open his own business. His good-for-nothing brother, who by now probably owed him more money than he could ever pay back, with his chubby, impolite kids who had asked him three times when he would start the BBQ. |
| He never really liked them, but after the money came... well, it became even worse. Impossible. He simply couldn't stand them. Every family gathering turned into a barrage of false flattery, jealousy and favors. Lots of favors. By now he could predict precisely when one of them was about to ask him for a favor. They had this pattern. They would follow him all evening with their eyes. Waiting for the right moment. Approach him with a smile, ask how he was doing. "How's the business these days?" And then, then came the 'by the way...' He was always amused to see how they tried to appear casual and relaxed. As if they just happened to think about it. As if they just remembered something. He knew that it was all carefully orchestrated and well rehearsed. And to make things worse - it seemed that those who never believed in him, those that doubted him the most, those who never offered any help during the long difficult times, are those who constantly and shamelessly asked him for more and more favors. |
| Four hours passed and as always, the sunset was beautiful from his garden. The evening was coming to it's end, culminating as usual with the birthday cake. A huge chocolate cake with five pink burning candles, applause, somebody shout "Speech" and then silence. Blessed silence after four hours of nonstop noise. He was expected to deliver his speech now. |
| "Today I turn 50" he said. As expected, some clapped their hands. "And for me, most of all, 50 means independence. And independence means - doing what you want to do, where you want to do it and most of all - with the people you want to do it with!" His tone became stiffer and harsher. |
| "And so I wish myself many more to come, many good and healthy ones, but most important - away from you all! Don’t write, don't call and most of all - don't even consider a visit! I've had enough." |
| "And even though I said the same exact thing last year, well, this time I really mean it..." |
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