The Rubber Band

The Rubber Band

I haven't blogged in a few weeks. Oh sure, there're multiple reasons, mostly I'd not like to talk about. But know this - this post isn't meant just for me. It's meant for a certain few others. I haven't told you who you are, but after reading, I hope you do know.

Boy, do I get inspired when I'm emotionally drianed.

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"A very warm welcome to you, our guest." The middle aged man in the suit greeted me.

I was rather shocked at this rather formal greeting, as I was simply expecting the standard what-do-you-want welcome, and hastily replied, "Err, thank you. I'd like to get a rubber band stretched."

"Ah, stretching a rubber band," the man nodded knowingly. "You have come to the right place. May I have the rubber band that you intend to get stretched?" He held out his hand.

I glanced at the band I held tightly in my palm. It was such a great rubber band the way it was. But it had to go through this. All rubber bands do. What else are rubber bands supposed to do?

I handed it over, fingers trembling a little.

The man picked it up delicately with two fingers, and gestured me to follow him through a door behind the counter he stood behind. I followed obediently and closed the door behind me.

I was led into a rather dark room, filled with the strangest of machines I have ever seen. It was a little larger than I'd expected, compared to the small size of the shop. Not wanting get lost in such a creepy place, I hurried my footsteps to follow the shopkeeper through the maze-like interior.

He stopped abruptly at a machine, and stretched the rubber band lightly over six tips sticking out of the top of the machine. Pressing a few buttons, the machine roared to life, before quieting down to a whir.

"This process is called the Primary Stretching. It's a standard stage for all rubber bands, and get's them... limbered up for any additional stretching steps afterwards. Very crucial." He explained to me.

I nodded, observing what was happening to my rubber band. The six tips formed a hexagon, and were slowly moving outwards before quickly contracting inwards, then outwards further, and back again. The rubber band was slowly getting bigger and bigger with each stretch.

After a few minutes, the machine slowed and shut off. The man lifted the rubber band delicately from the machine, and presented it to me. It looked... different. More flexible, and ready for more.

I was quite pleased with the results, and asked the man, "What's next?"

He held up the rubber band to his eyes. "I could take it for a Secondary Stretching - It had adapted to the Primary one well. Very well in fact." He commented, albeit rather absent-mindedly. After some form of deliberation, he concluded, "Definitely Division: High Standard."

He then walked off immediately, and I had to hurry to catch up with him. I wasn't sure what "Division: High Standard" meant, but I liked the sound of it.

We stopped at a different machine now - It was much larger than the first. What I thought was strange was that it did not have tips sticking out like the first machine. Instead, it had just four limb-like structures with a series of bends, with claw-like ends.

Pressing a button on the machine, the shopkeeper secured my rubber band to each of the claws. The machine then proceeded to start stretching the rubber bands in more than one direction. It was quite alarming, the large change.

"Will it be okay?" I asked, rather worried for my rubberband.

"Oh, yes, yes. Don't worry. This is something every rubberband goes through," the man reassured me again.

After a while, a blue light lit up on the side of the machine. I saw the man's eyebrow raise a notch, and couldn't help but inquire on the treatment my rubberband was going through.

"Congratulations Sir!" He seemed rather excited. "You, Sir, are a very lucky man indeed, for having such a great rubberband! The machine seemed to decide that the rubberband is suitable for the Super Complicated stretch -  and it's even on the Extra Complication level!"

"That's... Good, right?" I asked wearily, taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm.

"It's magnificent!" He beamed, focusing on the rubberband. "Very lucky indeed."

I was a little stunned by the news, and happily turned to look at my rubberband again. The machine was using its limbs more violently now, even snapping it at times and pulling my rubberband at great speeds and lengths.

Don't worry, you'll be better after this.

My rubberband didn't even seem to hear me, and started to look... Different. It didn't seem to have that tenacity anymore, that elasticity I knew. Yet I could not stop the process. Every rubberband had to go through this. I tried to make things better for myrubberband, comforting it now and then.

Don't worry, you'll be better after this.

But the rubberband didn't seem to hear me. I anxiously asked the shopkeeper, "How long more? How long more before this ends?"

He gave a little frown, and answered, "I'm not sure, might take a few more months - 7 or 8 possibly."

I turned back and looked at my rubberband. Hang in there. Don't worry, you'll be better after this.

Don't worry.

You'll be better.

Stay strong.

I'm right here.

We'll do this together.

Don't worry.