This story is rather complicated, but I hope you read it because I want you to tell me what you think about the ending.
Our convoluted tale begins several weeks ago at a coffee roast at Columbus’s North Market. This coffee roast is a sampling of central Ohio’s best coffee brands for young twenty-something socialites and the hearts in them that can comfortably handle that many cups of freshly brewed coffee in a row. Or at least almost handle it. By the end of it I was like a DVD fast forwarding at the x16 level. It was about halfway through this caffeine-based revelry when we were sitting at a table and Mr. Holland’s Opus – a relatively unknown movie from the 90s – came up. My friend Rachel and I both said ‘I love that movie!’ but Christine said that she had never heard of it.
The next day I began texting Christine about coming over on Tuesday to watch the movie. I said I had wanted to have another friend over, Anna, but it turned out that Anna could not make it. In turn it seemed inviting Rachel and her brofriend Hew over seemed the best plan and Christine agreed, but Rachel could not make it when Christine was available on Tuesday night because it was too late and she had work in the morning. Christine would be out of town until Sunday, but it turns out that everyone was available Sunday afternoon so we planned for then.
By Friday my life-weary head realized that I didn’t own Mr. Holland’s Opus. I felt like I was running for president and had suddenly realized I had forgotten to campaign. As the host and originator of the viewing party idea, I reasoned I should probably be the one to get it. A quick search in the main Columbus library system returned no results. (That was when I realized it was relatively unknown – I had thought it was famous!) The UA library system had it, but it was already past five and they were closed. Drat.
The UA library opens at 10 AM on Saturdays but on this particular Saturday I had to work at 10:30. Not only would it have been a close call to try to make it from the library to work on time, but my friend had just opened a coffee truck on campus that I wanted to visit that opened at 10 on Saturday. She had just opened it on Thursday and I was really excited to go to it because years earlier we had had a conversation about our dreams to open our own coffee shops and now she was finally doing it. It was a chilly and bright morning and I had a great walk there, and after the employees figured out what was on the menu and how much it cost it all worked out.
Easter destroyed any plans to acquire the movie on Sunday, which left me with relatively few options. Here is where the crucial move comes in. I called my mom and asked if she could pick it up for me. She asked for my library card number to use, but I told her my outstanding fines made that option pretty useless (I failed at my New Year’s Resolution a looong time ago). Instead I asked if she would be willing to sign up for a card to use, which wouldn’t be a bad idea anyways because the UA library system is awesome (see the present example). She said she would search RedBox first, but if that didn’t work she would go ahead and get it.
That evening we all convened at my sister’s house for Easter dinner. My mother had left the movie in the car and after dinner had to run to Reynoldsburg and back. ‘Do you want to come get it?’ she asked. She said she would be back in about forty minutes and, feeling lazy, I said I would just get it then. In this time three things happened: 1) My friend Will texted me that his band was playing promptly at 9 PM. 2) The Buckeyes starting getting crushed in the Elite Eight. 3) My mom was a little longer than she expected to be.
With no hope for the Buckeyes and my friend Will’s band playing a relatively short set, I decided to take off for the show with my sister. I called my mom and told her to just leave the movie at my sister’s (a short drive from my house) and I would get it later.
Later that night I was as stunned as the Buckeyes when Christine texted me and let me know that Rachel had the movie. Oh, I thought. Well I suppose that takes care of things. Everyone came over the next day and we had a wonderful time watching the movie and I cried pretty substantially but I’m a guy and I tried to hide it and I don’t think anyone else noticed. The girls are both teachers and you really would have expected them to be the criers. Ah, gender norms! Who needs ‘em?
By Wednesday the pressure was on to return the copy my mom had picked up to the library. I picked it up from my sister’s but I forgot to return it until late Thursday night, which was just on time. The next morning I saw my mom as she worked in her office and she turned to me and asked, ‘Did you return that movie?’ and I said yes. Then she asked me, ‘Did you watch it with your friends?’
I froze for a moment in my mind as I gave the question a quick chew. Then I said, ‘Yes.’
I walked away with a furrowed brow. Of course, the question had ambiguous content. The ‘it’ could be taken to refer to the concept of the content of ‘Mr. Holland’s Opus’, in which case it was true that we had watched it. Or it could be taken to refer to the very copy of the movie that she had checked out from the library. Naturally, I didn’t want to tell her that she had gone to all that work for nothing. It was still great that she had taken the time to get it for me as a favor, and I had no idea that another copy of the movie would turn up. But strictly speaking, we hadn’t needed it, which leads to the question: should I have said ‘no’ and explained that when she asked? It is almost certainly the case that I mislead her – however indirectly – into thinking something that was not true. Did I owe it to her to say ‘Actually my friend ended up having it, so we watched that one instead because the copy you got was at Grace’s'? Is it wrong to make someone think they helped you more than they actually did?
What do you think?
