Writing Prompts: A True Story

It happened to me in 8th grade. I was playing around on an anonymous chat client, trolling or simply being random and calling it comedy.  A chat came up, and the chat participant simply said ‘what should I do?’

And I, in my infinite fifteen-year-old wisdom, replied: “Go to Starbucks.”

When this person asked why, I asked why not. I told this person how I met friends at Starbucks, or just people watched, or enjoyed a sugary beverage. I outlined a life of simple pleasures all hinging on going to Starbucks. I don’t know why and never will, but I knew in that moment that this person needed a truth from me. So I gave them one.

When I was finished, this person said to me “thanks” and then “I was going to kill myself today. But instead, maybe I’ll go to Starbucks.”

“Maybe I’ll see you there,” I said. They agreed and hoped to meet me at Starbucks one day. Then they disconnected.

Ever since then I’ve wondered… was that it? Was this round of life meant to send this random Omegle person to Starbucks instead of their death? Will this person become a force of good in the world simply because a stranger on the internet suggested a vanilla bean frappuccino? 

And then it becomes ‘and now what?’

Now I live for myself, and I decide to all over again every time I think about it. I go to Starbucks for the time with friends, for the people watching, for the sugary beverages. Maybe sometimes just because there’s nothing else to do that day.

Maybe some days the person I’m sending to Starbucks to avoid death isn’t some random user on the internet but me, myself. Maybe simple pleasures are the purpose. 

Maybe when you get to the end of this life it’s the angel or whatever who asks you ‘what is your purpose?’

If my answer is ‘sharing simple pleasures’ then I think that’s not a bad use of my life after all.