The Reflection of Perfection

Ian Flagg’s mouth watered at the plate of Indian curry sitting before him and another plate of the spicy treat across from him. Yet, the old man’s sniper sight focus burned a hole through the newspaper he was reading. Besides, he wouldn’t want to get any of that messy food on his clean white dress shirt and silver tie. Accountants of his social status can’t afford to look like that. A waitress came by and refilled his coffee mug, yet Ian never took his eyes away from whatever news story was assaulting his mind.

As soon as the waitress strolled away, a young man with a black ponytail, a green polo shirt, and tan khaki shorts entered the restaurant hunched over with exhaustion and stress. Then and only then did Ian take his eyes off his newspaper. The young man sat across from Ian and hung his head in exhaustion, the scent of the curry doing no favors for his energy level.

“You’re late, son. Is that acting schedule of yours keeping you down? For god’s sake, get some sleep, Payton,” said Ian.

“Sorry, Dad,” said Payton in a slow and medicated voice. “I’m assuming there’s a review of my new movie in that newspaper of yours. I stayed up until midnight reading those goddamn reviews online. What the fuck is wrong with people?”

Ian folded up his newspaper and said, “You can’t fault your critics for feeling the way they do, son. It’s a free country. Everybody’s entitled to their own opinions, even if they are overwhelmingly negative and come from a website about spoiled vegetables.” The father folded his hands across the table and said, “Son, you need to get out of this movie business. It’s not good for you. You can’t take criticism and it’s only going to get worse from here.”

Payton lifted his unshaven face and said, “So what’s the alternative to having my dream job? Doing what you do and crunch numbers all day long? No thanks, I’d rather roll around on a pile of actual rotten tomatoes.”

“Being an accountant sounds boring on the surface, I agree. Hell, most of the comedy movies out there make fun of this idea. But it’s a stable income and you don’t have to worry about where your next meal is coming from. You’re welcome for the curry, by the way,” said Ian.

Payton languidly stirred his fork around in his food and said, “Listen, pops. I spent way too much time and money just to get my acting career of the fucking ground. I’m not going to give up on it just because of some negative assholes online. Shit, man, there’s negativity everywhere I go, so I have to get immune to it sometime. Maybe not right now, but eventually.”

“But that’s the thing, Payton. You don’t get used to harsh criticism. You don’t improve your craft. You don’t get better in life. You feel like this world owes you something and you don’t cash in on that opportunity.” Ian leaned his face closer as if to intensify the seriousness of this conversation. “Payton, you need help. You need to start making some real money so that you don’t have to live like a goddamn bum.”

“So that’s it, huh?” said the actor as he shrugged his shoulders. “One failure and I should just give up on my dreams?”

“We’re not just talking about one failure, son. We’re talking about being universally panned by every critic in the country. I don’t care how good of an actor you are, because nobody can recover from something like that. You wouldn’t have to worry about this kind of thing if you got a math degree and took up accounting like me.”

After a while of glaring in disbelief at his father, Payton stood up, slammed his palms on the table (nearly knocking his curry on the floor), and screamed, “Fuck you, old man! Fuck you! You talk about stable incomes and the world not owing me anything, yet you sit here thinking that I owe you my dreams and my hard work! You’re a conformist! You’re a soul-dead son of a bitch and you want the whole world to be just as boring and sad as you! I don’t care how much money you’re making, because all the money in the world can’t buy you a charismatic personality!”

Ian stood up and slammed his own palms on the table before shouting back, “I’m trying to look after you, you goddamn fool! I don’t want you to end up homeless and begging for handouts! If you keep spiraling out of control like this, you’re going to hit rock bottom and you’re never coming back!”

Some of the restaurant patrons stared at the father-son duo with shock on their faces while others turned heel and walked away altogether. The waitress who filled Ian’s coffee earlier approached him and said, “Excuse me, sir, but the two of you need to calm down or else I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Ian held his palm in the waitress’s face and said, “I’m trying to get through to my idiot son, so if you could stay out of this conversation, that’d be wonderful!”

“Idiot?! You think I’m an idiot because I actually believe in myself?! You think I’m an idiot just because I refuse to give up?! I’d rather be an idiot than a boring piece of shit like you!” shouted Payton.

“This so-called boring piece of shit is alive and well thanks to his steady income, which is more than I can say about a fuck-up like you walking around in those slob clothes! You have a decision to make, young man! Either accept your responsibilities as a grown adult or live like a child and die of starvation! Life may be boring and sad, but it’s not going to change anytime soon just because you like to rebel against the system! The system is in place for a reason, son, because it works!” yelled Ian.

“Hey!” snapped the waitress, who finally found her footing in this conversation after shaking nervously throughout the screaming matches. “I’ve had it up to here with you two scaring away the customers! You can either calm down and eat your lunches or I can get my supervisor and have the two of you blackballed from here! Do you understand me?!”

The father and son slowly sat back down and glared at each other with fiery vision. “You know what?” said Payton as he dug in his shorts for his wallet. “I’m going to go ahead and pay for my meal and leave on my own terms. I don’t have a whole lot of money in my bank account, but not to worry, because that’ll all be fixed once I start crunching numbers in a plain old office. Here, take my goddamn card.”

The waitress eyeballed Payton’s debit card for a while before a small smile formed on her face. “You’re Payton Flagg? The actor?”

“Guilty as charged, though I don’t know if ‘the actor’ fits me anymore,” said Payton in a bummed out voice.

The waitress’s smile grew wider as she said, “You know what? I don’t care what any of those morons on Rotten Tomatoes think. I thought that movie was hilarious. I love dirty humor!”

A look of shocked disbelief formed on Ian’s face while one of surprise formed on Payton’s. The actor said, “Do you really mean that?”

“No, I’m screwing with you. Of course I mean it, you silly goose!” said the waitress with a giggle. “I’m training to become an actress myself. You wouldn’t mind letting me in on some of your connections would you?” The waitress playfully elbowed Payton in the arm.

“I don’t know. My connections aren’t exactly…”

“Come on, Payton, what’s the worst that could happen? You got your foot in the door, didn’t you? That’s more than I can say for myself right now. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be working here. What do you say? Will you hook me up?” said the waitress with a Hollywood smile.

Payton smiled himself and said, “You know what? I think that’s a good idea. I’ll come back here when you get off work and I’ll introduce you to some of my guys.”

“Yes!” squealed the waitress before hugging and thanking Payton repeatedly. It was an awkward hug, but Payton wrapped his arms anyways. He also gave his father a smart-assed wink before the tie-wearing sad sap rested his forehead in his hands. Even though Ian knew his son wasn’t the reflection of perfection, it hurt even more to know he was bested by the little hipster. Blind conformity seemed like a foolish route after all.