Ever Wonder?

The sun was shining, and it was hot. Many trees had leaves again. This morning, I heard air conditioners. I didn’t like the sound, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it, so I walked to work. Grant was already there. He was always there. He was from South Dakota and had something to prove, I guess, so he made sure to be the first one to work every day, and I didn’t like him but that wasn’t the reason why. I didn’t like him because he was three inches taller than me, and he didn’t fish. I tried to close the door to my office, but he followed me, already talking.
“Good morning, Ben,” he said.
“Good morning, Grant,” I said.
“That was some storm last night.”
“Yes, it was.”
“It made me glad I was inside. Didn’t you think so?”
“I was outside. I had been drinking, and I was walking home.”
He started to say something else, but I opened my desk and pulled out a bottle of cognac and a glass. I absentmindedly poured a little into the glass and drank it. Looking at Grant, I asked, “Do you want some?”
Grant shook his head. I poured another drink and drank it. “Are you sure?”
“I don’t think it’s such a good idea to drink so early in the morning. I read once that people who do that are people who might have problems.”
I poured another drink and raised the glass in his direction. The cognac was good. “I never read that. But, then, I don’t read much.” The cognac really was good. It was good cognac. I was feeling a bit tight from the good cognac. “It’s nice that you do, though.”
“Can I ask you something, Ben?”
“Let’s not talk.”
He cleared his throat. He looked out the window at the sun. Maybe he was looking at a building. He wasn’t looking at me. I sat down. He didn’t move.
“Do you think we have a purpose?”
“Oh, for crying out loud.” I poured another drink. I was going to need it, and the cognac was good.
“Don’t you ever wonder that?”
“Not since I was in college.”
“You never wonder why we exist or what we could be doing?”
“Well, this cognac is good.”
“Why are we here?”
I had to get some work done. He wasn’t leaving. I pointed at the papers on my desk. He didn’t move. I stood up and walked to the window. I took the bottle with me.
“I’ve read a lot, but I still can’t figure it out.”
I opened another drawer of my desk and pulled out two books. “Take one,” I said. “Read it.”
“And then what?”
“And then what what?”
“Are you drunk?”
The cognac was good. The sun was shining. I had to get some work done, and I needed Grant to leave. “And then I don’t care.”
“You much care.”
“I don’t care.”
“But if you don’t care, and you’re the narrator, then how am I to know what to do?”
I took a piece of paper from the stack on my desk, poured a drink, and then wrote a few lines. I handed it to Grant. “Don’t read it in here.”
“Thank you. You’re a real friend.”
The sun was shining when he left, and I sat down. Outside, I heard him read aloud from the note: Read it. Finish it, eventually. Think about it. Respond. Connect it to yourself. Or not. Connect it to the world. Or not. The thoughts are all up to you. But remember Descartes said to only spend a couple hours a year doing hard thinking. And remember that we’re all in the same mess you are. Hence, the magnificent cognac.
I moved my chair and heard him, still outside my door. I tried to speak the words at the same time he did. “But what will I get out of it?”