Salad Man
“Shots fired! Shots fired!” Scream. VIPs evacuate. Dinner guests duck. Except you. You’re finishing your salad, dammit. What do you know that we don’t? Maybe the chances of shots reaching into this room are infinitesimal. This is the safest place to be, surrounded by law enforcement. Maybe this is all staged, part of some grand conspiracy. Maybe you just don’t care. Que será, será. I want to shout: “A table might not stop a bullet, but ducking can avoid a stray one.” Maybe you’ve seen it all before. Maybe you just don’t want to get your tux dirty. God, grant me the wisdom to know the difference between equanimity and giving up.
Inspired by a real moment at this year's White House Correspondents' Dinner. I still think about Salad Man.
If this resonates, I’d love to hear from you. A comment, a share, or even just a like goes a long way. Writing into the void is its own practice, but knowing the work lands makes it easier to keep showing up.