The Great Tragedy of Ryan Callahan

Ryan is reluctant to join the online debate team. He would have no idea of what the people he’d be debating with looked like. For someone who was so greatly influenced by a twenty-eight year old woman who, while dating a nineteen year old Ryan she met online, raved about how the world had become corrupt and it was their job to do something about it, seeing who you’re up against is a big deal.
It’s a big deal because the people you’re up against might not be able to talk. They could be paralyzed, unable to stand. The majority of them probably would be. The majority of them would probably be senile, and if not, at least over fifty. Grudging librarians who could never let go.
None of these things have to do with why not seeing who you’re up against is a big deal to Ryan.
Ryan sits in front of his computer all day, and picks fights with his friends.
He has a job at the post office from 7 to 5.
His last girlfriend called him up while having sex with his best friend.
Her moans sounded different. Genuine.
He has a very powerful character in the computer game he plays. It is world renown. The reason he’s joining the debate team is because from his perspective, he always wins the arguments he gets into with his friends. He’s so good at arguing and pushing people away that he wants to do it for a living.
Ever since his relationship with the older woman, he’s felt sorry for homeless people he passes by on the street.
The events of 9/11 have suddenly had an inexplicable importance to him.
In front of the refrigerator, he tips back a gallon of milk into his mouth and spills it all over himself.
He thinks, If I can’t save myself, I might as well try to save everyone else.
The last argument he got into online was about how one of his friends used to be, in Ryan’s words, “fucked up”, and they refused to admitting they were fucked up. But they were fucked up! They did drugs. They still did drugs.
Instead of sitting in front of his computer and doing nothing about the state of turmoil the world is currently in, he’s decided to start denoting money, clothes, and food to foundations that aid people in third world countries.
Ryan’s altruism makes him feel good about himself. Whenever he tips a beggar on the street, he feels a boost similar to the endorphin rush of working out.
The only thing that bothers Ryan about the arguments that he has online is that once he’s started arguing, he can’t stop. If the argument ends, even after he feels that he’s already won, it leaves him feeling empty.
Ryan spills milk on himself again while intermittently rushing out into the kitchen to quench his thirst during an argument. He laughs and shuffles his feet.

His first official debate is scheduled to take place in a week. The debate team accepted his application for enrollment immediately.
The week proceeding the debate, Ryan practices arguing with his friends and ends up pushing the last of them away.
Apprehensive of his first debate, he drinks a beer, which is enough to get him tipsy.
Due to consistent spelling errors on the part of his opponent, Ryan wins the debate with ease. He barely had to read the topic and his assigned stance before firing off convincing accusations. He celebrates by having another beer.
In the car while driving to work the next morning he feels good about winning the night before. He turns the CD he normally listens to on his way to work a little louder. In the parking lot, one of the new girls he works with sees him bopping his head to the music and accounts his potential.
At work, his associates are impressed with his newfound vivacity. He drives home as content as he arrived at work, turning the music even louder.
He has a three day break before his next debate. Great! He’ll have the time to watch the new season of the X-files that he just bought on DVD. He thinks about calling his ex-girlfriend, but doesn’t. He calls one of his friends instead but they don’t pick up. He shrugs, and swigs a mouthful of milk. He takes a distanced look at the inside of his apartment and notices how barren it appears. Not once has he furnished it since he moved here so many months ago. He shrugs again, taking another swig of milk.
The next three days pass pleasantly. He doesn’t feel as good about himself at work as he did the first day after winning his debate, but he forces himself to smile more anyway. He notices that the new girl has taken an increased interest in him. She throws him glances, and has even started to lightly flirt with him. He likes the way her butt cheeks wobble when she walks.
Before his second debate he has a beer like he did the first time, and then another for good luck. The topic this time is about the price of gas. His opponent has been assigned to defend how high they are, and to no surprise, he wins again.
He celebrates, feeling just as excited about winning as he did the first time around, except, for some reason, he can’t seem to remember where he put his car keys.