Fairytales
I sat quietly at the table eating my lunch. A group of teenage girls in the booth next to mine were siping sodas, eating french fries, giggling, and talking loudly. In between my chewing and swallowing, I listened to their conversation.
They were discussing weddings, their own weddings that they invisioned would take place one day. Each girl described her ideal wedding day in great detail, with flowing gown, fancy lace, and massive amounts of flowers in a garden or church atmosphere. Some of the girls failed to mention a groom in the wedding, and those that did mention a partner seemed to add him in the picture only as an afterthought.
Soon the conversation moved to the house they would one day live in. Some of the girls described palace like structures, while others spoke of a home surrounded by a white picket fence with animals and children playing in the yard. They spoke in great detail as if they had thought and planned of such things long ago.
While the girls talked, I noticed the adults in the restaurant remained silent, they too were listening to what was being said. The adults were sharing a knowing glance with each other and shaking their heads as if they understood what the future held for these teenage girls. The adults looked like knowing butchers, understanding that these girls were the next generation of lambs destined towards the slaughterhouse of disappointment.
Suddenly, I wanted to get out of my booth and tell these girls how it is, to give them a good dose of reality. To explain to them that the fairytale seldom comes with a happily-ever-after ending. I wanted to tell them that education is their best bet for any kind of future. I wanted to speak to them about the realities of life, about all the things that schools fail to teach and parents seldom share. But no, I remained silent. They wouldn’t have listened anyway. I quietly paid the check and left a generous tip for the overworked waitress.