Day 112: Cold Blue Anger Part 2

The chairs screeched across the floor as the members rose to leave.  Tony was one of the first ones out of the gym, heading straight to his car.  He took a deep breath, not to relax but to inhale the sweet smell of his own car and his surroundings, and started the engine.  As he pulled out of the driveway, he heard that tiny beep alerting the driver to buckle his seatbelt, as if he would have forgotten to buckle up by this century.  Finally fed up from the annoying sound, he grabbed his seatbelt and jammed it into the lock.

“I hate that stupid alarm!”

Tony’s mind wandered to his plans for the evening.  His favorite football team was playing tonight, and he had a beer and a bag of tortilla chips with his name on them intended especially for the event.  Beforehand, he intended on working on that shelf he was building for his den.

His cell phone sounded off, and Tony reached for his bluetooth.

“Hello?”

“Hi, honey!” a sickly sweet voice answered, like a rich piece of cake with extra thick frosting.  “Is your meeting over?”

“Yes,” he answered tersely.

“How was it?”

“Just as boring as every other week.”

“Tony, you know that class is going to help you.”

“Is there anything else you wanted to tell me or are you calling to reiterate what my instructor has been telling me all month.”

Mitzy responded in a softer tone, “Can you pick up a package of confectioner’s sugar on your way home?”

Tony’s face contorted.  “Why do you need that for?”

“I’m making a surprise for you,” she answered, brimming with glee now.

“You know we don’t have money to be spending on frivolous stuff.”

“I know, but it won’t cost that much.  Please?”

He sighed.  “Fine.  I’ll be home later.  Bye.”

“Goodbye,” she ended in a subdued tone that still contained a whisper of love.

Tony turned his car around at the next convenient spot and thought bitterly how his plans would be changed, thanks to his wife.

Mitzy had always been peppy, ever since Tony met her almost five years ago while working at his first job as a barista at the local café.  It certainly hadn’t been his dream job, but it sounded better than working at McDonald’s.  One chilly morning in November, he had been having one of those days where everything had felt like it was going wrong until an attractive blond with curly hair that tickled her shoulders came in asking for a pumpkin latte with extra whipped cream.  Tony made the cup overflowing with whipped cream, and when Mitzy went to pick it up at the counter, she noticed a phone number along with her name written on the cup.  They were married ten months later.

Sometimes he wasn’t sure why he had married her, when she irked him so much.  He didn’t use to be like that.  He had loved Mitzy deeply.  They even tossed around the idea of having kids.  That was back before all the trouble started.  After that, he simply lost focus on his family goals and placed his priorities in his work.  A lot of good that did him.  He still loved Mitzy in his own way.  She was kind, patient, devoted to him, and funny when she wasn’t so…hyper.  Perhaps she bubbled over with too much love, if that was possible.

 Deciding music might help his sour mood, he turned the radio on.  It was on a classic rock station playing one of his favorite songs. Tony’s spirit rose as he sang along.  For a few moments, everything else in the world faded away. 

When a commercial came on, Tony glanced at the clock.  If he hurried, he’d be able to buy the confectioner’s sugar and get back home in enough time to work on his shelf for roughly ten minutes before the game started.  Ten minutes was better than nothing.  He pushed his foot on the accelerator a little bit to shave off travel time.  He soon found himself stuck behind a red SUV who was going five under the speed limit.  Tony beeped his horn twice to try to signal to the driver to speed up.  When that proved ineffective, Tony decided to pass him up.  He turned his head to check through the back window and saw the coast was clear.  When he turned around, the red SUV was already changing lanes. 

“Good riddance!”

His heart sank again when he saw who the real road block was.  A slow, grey older model Dodge was chugging along a few feet in front of him.  He saw it was too late to change lanes.  He was stuck behind the snail.  Tony pounded his fist on the wheel.  He quickly matched his speed with the driver.  Tony honked a little but the snail did not drive any faster.  He was on his tail now.  Tony was tense, ready to make his pass, and as soon as he saw the opportunity, he sailed past.

“Learn how to drive!” he yelled behind him, as if the driver would be able to hear him.  Tony saw that the road was wide open and couldn’t help but smile as he sped up again.  He’d be at the grocery store in another few minutes.  Tony’s face quickly changed to confusion as his car quickly began decelerating.

“What the?”

He glanced at his gas tank levels and saw the red arrow resting on the “E.”  He immediately regretted his decision to procrastinate filling up his tank until he got into his neighborhood where the gas was three cents per gallon cheaper.  Tony started pulling the car off to the side of the road, but it came to a complete halt before he could finish the maneuver safely.  He was off the road but only a few inches from it.

"This is just great!" Tony shouted and pounded on the dashboard. His fist stung from the impact of the hard surface, but he didn't care. The next gas station was miles away.  He decided the best thing to do would be to call a tow truck.  Before he could make the call though, a car pulled off to the side of the road and parked in front of him.  It was the grey Dodge.

"What I need, some do-gooder to nose into my business."

He expected an old man to walk out.  Tony was about to roll down his window and explain that he was fine and didn't need any help when his tongue got caught on the roof of his mouth. The old guy turned out to be old Abe, from his anger management group!  Speechless, Tony rolled down his window.

"Well, hi, Tony! Fancy meeting you out here! What's the problem?" Andrew boomed as jolly as Santa Claus would, with a smile streaked across his face.

“The problem,” Tony answered sullenly, “is that I ran out of gas.”  He didn’t care to publicize how he had run out.   

"Oh that's a shame!” Andrew replied sympathetically.  “But you're in luck.  I know of a gas station roughly fifteen minutes away.  I’d be more than happy to drive you there and back."

Tony knew that's exactly what Abe would offer to do. Rather than go through the same old conversation of "I hope it's not an inconvenience" and "Oh not at all," Tony answered, "Thanks. That's nice of you."

"Think nothing of it. Hop in." He walked back to his car and Tony followed him, getting into the front passenger side with his gas can clutched in his left hand.

Andrew buckled his seatbelt. "Never fear.  We can finish the whole trip within the hour."

Tony gave a quick, fake smile and leaned back in his seat.

"Where were you headed?"

"The grocery store.  My wife needed me to grab an ingredient for a recipe she’s baking."

“That’s a nice gesture.  You never mentioned you had a wife.”

“I guess she never came up.”

“How long have you two been married?”

“A little over four years.”

“Oh that’s nice.  What’s her name?”

“Mitzy.”

Andrew repeatedly it fondly.  “Mitzy.  That’s nice.  Do you want to call her and tell her what’s going on?”

“No.  She won’t miss me.”

Andrew was quiet for a minute before changing the subject.  “How are you liking the anger management classes?"

Tony stared at him. What kind of a question was that?  "They’re okay," he said warily.

"It takes a while to get used to the methods in class.  Once you do, you don't have to worry. They become a huge help.”

“So you mentioned in class.”

“I’m serious though.  Take that punching bag method, for example.  It hasn’t worked for me because I never liked boxing, but I started playing tennis.  That helped me channel all that anger I had into something constructive.  Now, it’s a great way to exercise too.”  He laughed.  “So stick with the classes, and you’ll come away with useful advice.  I know you will.”  

The man's positive attitude was making Tony sick.  "Yeah, I suppose," he said in an unconvincing voice.

“You have to be willing to try.”

“It’s hard to be ‘willing’ when I’m being dragged there against my will.”

“That attitude won’t get you very far.”

“It’s my life, and I’ll live it the way I choose.”

“I was only trying to help!” Andrew snapped, making Tony jerk his head towards him.  That was the first time he had ever heard Andrew get mad.

There was more silence.

“I’m sorry I got upset.  I still slip up.”

Tony shrugged his shoulders.  “It’s fine.”

Andrew pulled into the gas station driveway.  “I’ll wait here.”