The Harder They Come

I know it sounds dramatic, but there are times when I feel like the whole world is conspiring against me. I’m not sure how else to put it. I had my first round of interviews recently at a fast food chain that shall remain nameless, but prides itself on being not like all those other fast food chains. I was friendly, professional, and enthusiastic, but they told me that I really should have researched the company and its grand corporate vision (such as getting as much of its food locally and organically as possible) more before coming in. I dunno, I guess I thought knowing what they served would be enough. However, they did call me back in for a second round. As a side note, I’d like to ask: Does anybody besides me still dress up for job interviews. I was raised to believe that even if the place had a casual dress code, you should wear something that’s at least one step up from that (i.e. a dress shirt and jeans) to look presentable. I interviewed for two jobs last week, and in both cases, there was another interviewee who was in street clothes. WTF?

I didn’t really want the other job. It was at a clothing store that you’ve all heard of but which shall likewise remain nameless. The other interviewee was a high school senior who seemed nice enough and was clearly more interested in the company than I was. So I don’t really begrudge them for giving her the job. But the fast food chain—man, did that one piss me off. I’m still not entirely sure why. I know rejection comes with the territory, but is there such thing as being too good for a job? The first interview went fine, setting aside my lack of knowledge about the company. The assistant manager seemed like a swell guy. At the second interview, the general manager told me that the first one didn’t really “count” as he had been out of town and the assistant manager had just gone ahead without him. The other interviewee was a nineteen year-old college student who sat there with her hands neatly folded reciting a few basic facts about the company and otherwise being perfectly bland and pleasant. I had done my homework and knew practically everything about that company, but that didn’t help. I couldn’t be bland if I tried.

I can’t be certain if the other candidates at these two interviews got the job, but I’m pretty sure they did. And that pisses me off. I’m a hard worker. I’m smart, capable, punctual, even friendly when I have to be. But there is something about me that rubs people the wrong way, and I just don’t know what to do about it. Do hiring managers look for people who just go through the motions and don’t rock the boat? I guess they do. Because that doesn’t describe me, never has, never will. It’s why I started this blog. If I had more friends, a cushy job, and Daniel Radcliffe begging me for a date, maybe I wouldn’t need it. But I don’t, so I do.

I had an interview a few months ago at a store that sells kitchen appliances. I can’t remember if I’ve told this story before, so just bear with me. I shop at another location of this store, so I already knew a fair amount about them and what they do. I could not have given a better interview. I had an answer for every question. I was on-point, made eye contact, and clearly wanted the job. I could even see the managers scribbling positive notes about me as I talked. As I left, one of them even said something to the effect of, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again soon.” Fuck you. They didn’t even get back to me. I called back a few weeks later and finally got my response. What did the other person do? At first, I thought maybe they’d gone down on the managers, but now I’m starting to think that they were hollow and dead-eyed, like the lady who probably got hired over me at the fast food chain. Somebody just kill me so that I can move forward in life.

I looked at an apartment lately. It could not have possibly gone any better. The apartment was perfect, the location was perfect, I was perfect. Any guesses as to whether or not I got the place? I’m at a loss here, people. My prospective roommates seemed nice. I chatted with them about my living habits and job and asked them about theirs. I even petted their fucking dog. But they gave it to somebody else. Always to somebody else. I’m someone else to someone else, so why can’t I ever get lucky?

Since I have to relate everything to Doctor Who, I would just like to say that “Listen” really wasn’t that good. Like everything Moffat does, it was circular cleverness that ultimately amounted to nothing much. So Clara helps the Doctor overcome a childhood fear. Why couldn’t he do that by himself? Why does everything in Moffatworld revolve around the main character? The Sherlock Holmes of canon was not “a high-functioning sociopath”, not even fucking close. He admitted when he was wrong. But Cumberbatch’s Holmes is never wrong about anything. And yeah, I suppose you could argue that helping the Doctor gave Clara the strength to talk to Danny again, but I kinda feel like she could have done that anyway. I wish like hell Moffat/Gatiss would stop reinventing and re-imagining old stories and come up with something new already. And that’s all that I have to say about that.

When I take over the world, I’ll have everyone who displeases me tossed into an active volcano. So be nice to me, okay?

Someone’s Trying to Tell Me Something

Hey, Old Man. You home tonight? It’s about time we had a little talk. I know I’m a pretty evil fellow… killed people in the war and got drunk… and chewed up municipal property and the like. I know I got no call to ask for much… but even so, you’ve got to admit you ain’t dealt me no cards in a long time. It’s beginning to look like you got things fixed so I can’t never win out. Inside, outside, all of them… rules and regulations and bosses. You made me like I am. Now just where am I supposed to fit in?

–Cool Hand Luke

Let’s get the bad news out of the way first: This past week or two has been rough. Really, really rough. I haven’t hung out with anyone since April, and I have to tell you, it’s beginning to get to me. It wouldn’t be so annoying if there weren’t folks out there who could totally make the time to see me if they really wanted to, but since they don’t, they won’t. This is not a cry for attention; it is a simple fact. Earlier this week, my manager received a very angry email from customers complaining that they won’t be coming to our store anymore because one of the employees was very rude to them. Though they did not mention me by name, I’m pretty sure they were talking about me. Except I wasn’t rude. Unfriendly, maybe, but friendly is not my default setting, and we all have our bad days. Did it ever occur to these guys that I might be having a bad day? Apparently not. They want their coffee, and if it’s not served with a smile, that’s my fault.

I don’t feel too bad about this experience. A little bit, maybe, but not really. You might point out that yeah, actually, it kinda is my job to smile at customers no matter how badly my day is going, and perhaps you’re right. Thing is, I’m not responsible for what people read between the lines. In the nine months that I have worked at this establishment, I have never raised my voice with a customer. With the possible exception of not doing something for a customer because they approached me when I was on break, I have never refused service to anyone. And somehow, that’s not enough. Well, gee. Longtime readers of this blog may recall a story in which I moved to New York for school and was kicked out of my apartment not one hour after moving in (although the lady did say I could stay for a few days just to find another spot to crash) simply because I rubbed my new roommate the wrong way. By her own admission, I didn’t do anything, I just wasn’t warm and fuzzy enough for her. Maybe I could have tried harder to make small talk, but I doubt that would have helped. You can always try harder. Yet there is no guarantee that that will change anybody’s mind.

According to this email, this group of customers was so put off by my service that when they had a business meeting later, they spent half of it discussing me. Seriously? Unless the employee purposely spills boiling water on your shoes or spits in your drink, I have no idea what could piss somebody off that hard. I’m sorry, but that’s just fucking ridiculous. Besides, these guys had visited this establishment before. Most likely, I had gotten their coffee before, which means that they have encountered me on my better days. Which makes their complaining, to my ears, sound a little bit entitled. Some people just don’t like me. And there’s nothing I can do about that.

I’m thinking of taking a little while off of blogging. Periodically, this happens. I’ll get so fed up with my life and my circumstances that I write a misanthropic post about how I’m going away for a week or two or even just a couple days, and that’s that. This time, I think I’ll take a month off. I can’t make people notice me. When you spend enough time alone, you start having existential thoughts about the transience of life and the crushing inevitability of death, and that’s just not healthy. I should have time enough to do the shit that I mean to do. What’s more, I should even be able to have a little fun doing it. I don’t agree with what Owen Wilson said in Midnight in Paris: “Life is a little unsatisfying.” It’s only unsatisfying if your expectations are too high. And I just want to conquer the fucking world. Will somebody please tell me what’s so unrealistic about that?

It takes strength and courage to let go of the shit that you cannot change. What’s more, things rarely get better immediately after. There are some folks who seem to think that by your mid-twenties, you should have all of your shit figured out. Technically, nobody has all of their shit figured out, we’re all works in progress, etc. Even then, I think I can do better than this. It’s been three years since I got my bachelors degree, one since I got my masters. That’s not really that long. And since I’m holding out hope that most of my great accomplishments are still in front of me, I think that I am in a position to put my foot down and set some terms. I don’t seek isolation, but given the choice between that and being surrounded by people I don’t like, I know exactly what I’m going to choose. It has to be on my terms or not at all. Here’s something funny.

Anticipation

I spend way too much of my time thinking about death. Technically, everybody dies, but if you’re like me, you spend most of your time trying to straighten out your issues so that you can live, then realize that by the time that happens, you’ll be dead. So I guess you have to live in the meantime, or something. I am trying to master that Buddhist idea of mindfulness, of being aware of things without letting it get to you. I just hate it when people say, “Cherish every moment. It all goes by so fast.” No, it doesn’t. My memory is a jumble these days. I can’t distinguish between two years ago, two weeks and two decades. So I’m trying to get it straightened out. Because nothing is more annoying than meeting somebody and knowing instantly how your relationship with them will proceed. It’s nice to have surprises. Most of the ones I get are of the unpleasant variety, and I’m hoping that changes eventually.

I had a minor realization as I was making drinks recently. It’s hard to put into words. It wasn’t so much that I decided that I would have to move on eventually as that I figured out that I was almost ready to take on a little more. I’m not just talking about a second job, nor am I talking about getting my own place. I’m not graduating from anywhere, so as far as I’m concerned, I can keep doing this shit for as long as I like. Most of my jobs so far have ended either when I was fired, the summer ended and I had to go back to school, or my term as a student employee ended. For once, I might be able to end things on my own terms. But that shouldn’t be for a while now. We have a pretty high turnover rate where I work, and being a better barista no longer feels like the only thing I’m working towards.

I think the reason I like the It Gets Better campaign so much is that it doesn’t pretend that everything will be wonderful once you come out. Too many of the movies I watch on Netflix have that message. I watched an awful one called Geography Club a few months back that, like so others, was about a bland everyman protagonist who realized that being gay doesn’t have to be that big of a deal. Of course it’s not that big of a deal, that’s why you made a whole fucking movie about it. The one moment of truth came late in the film, when his closeted jock boyfriend says, “I don’t want to be gay. I want to be normal.” I think everyone can relate to that. Even if you’re not gay, you have surely had to deal with the feeling that you don’t fit in. Why the movie was not about the jock instead of the boring everyman, I have no idea. I watched another one just now called Edge of Seventeen that was actually decent. It didn’t sand the edges off of the experience the way so many others do, but still gave us a cypher of a protagonist who, instead of coming out so he can be with his boyfriend, basically comes out so he can have lots of sex. I wish like hell the movie had been about Lea Delaria and her queeny old friends instead. Those guys must have stories to tell.

I hate it when people say that the anticipation of something is more fun than the thing itself. If you’re a little kid who is too excited to sleep on Christmas Eve, maybe. But there is a truth that runs parallel to that with which I wholeheartedly agree: that having something to look forward to is a great motivator. Some might say it’s the best. It doesn’t have to be something really exciting, like a wedding or holding your first child. It can be something simpler, like a social gathering, a date, or even a job interview (provided that you actually want the job). I haven’t been to the movies in a while. I used to go more frequently. I’m thinking of seeing How to Train Your Dragon 2 because I like animation and I like dragons. For whatever reason, none of the big blockbusters that have come out in the past month or so have really drawn me, although I hear Edge of Tomorrow is much better than the ads made it look.

There has never been a point in my life at which I was absolutely pumped to start the day each morning. That’s why I rail so hard against the mythologizing of childhood. People talk about how happy and carefree they were. It seems to me that they are looking at the whole thing through rose-tinted glasses. I keep moving forward because all I have is the blind hope that whatever I’m working towards is better than this. I have to keep moving. People I went to high school with are getting married and having kids. I know it’s stupid to compare yourself to other people, but seriously, when do I get to conquer the world?

I find that my interests are getting more and more specific and nuanced. I keep wondering if I should take up role-playing games again, either tabletop or on the computer. When I was a child, my entire day revolved around computer games, usually either RTS or RPG. I miss those days, but only a little. I would spend the entire morning playing games, then go do other shit for the rest of the day because even I could see that you couldn’t do this all the time. If I’m out to recreate that experience now, it’s only to figure out what to do after I’m done playing games for the day. Because nobody can live a fantasy all the time. Even if you escape, you can’t live that escape more than once.

From Where the Sun Now Stands

If you’re like me, you probably spend most of your time alone. The problem here is that I kind of have to be my own cheerleader. I do not need anyone—not friends, family, or readers of this blog—to follow me around with pom-poms telling me I’m wonderful. So don’t even try. But since I am alone with myself basically round the clock, I have to look to myself for reassurance. I am not always the best support group, which is surprising, considering my naturally optimistic and upbeat outlook.

If you spend most of your time alone, you have probably had those days where you can barely even drag yourself out of bed until late morning (or later, really). Eventually, you work up the energy to shower and eat breakfast (or not, if you’re way down in a hole). Somewhere around the early afternoon, you start to wonder if you’re going to get anything done that day. Then you start doing shit and keep doing it, and before you know it, you’ve gotten everything major out of the way for the day and several hours left to kill before bedtime. This describes most of my days off work. I’m not always good at estimating how long something will take, and in its own way, that’s almost as disorienting as shit taking longer than you thought it would.

If you’re not good at estimating how long something will take, you probably experience a lot of stress over whether or not you can get all of your shit done on time. I experience this at work. I was emptying the trash and was right in the middle of it when the shift leader gestured for me to come back and hop on register. Emptying the trash takes a minute, and it’s not the sort of thing you can leave midway through and just come back to. Yes, I could see there was a line, but couldn’t she see I was busy? (I think there might have been a small coffee spill to clean up as well.) “It’s just a job,” some woman said to me. I wanted to marry her.

If you’ve ever wanted to marry a total stranger, you are probably familiar with the feeling of suffocation that can arise from being surrounded with and having to deal with the same damn people day in and day out. Nobody is right 100% of the time (except me, of course), so you can only tell people to go screw themselves for so long. I don’t have the energy to fight everyone all the time, so I have to pick and choose my battles. Some days, I’m pissed off at my manager for sending me home after only two hours, meaning that getting to and from work that day takes me longer than actually, you know, working. Other days, I’m pissed off at my coworkers for the way that they already seem to have formed a little circle of friends after working together for a relatively short time. It wouldn’t be such a big deal, except that the social dynamics that they have outside of work often influence their behavior at work. And that means that I am often left out.

If you’ve ever felt left out, you probably know what it’s like to need a good laugh. I watched Night at the Museum on pay-per-view one night after a hard day of traveling. I was not in a good mood. I’m also not a big fan of Ben Stiller. Under any other circumstances, I might have thought it was pretty damn mediocre, but that night, it came like a breath of fresh air. The “Real Actors Read Yelp Reviews” YouTube series is amazing. This video in particular had me howling.

And then there’s this one. I question the writer of this review’s sanity.

I feel the need to reiterate once again that my brilliance is beyond compare. Have you forgotten that? Allow me to remind you. Because I’m not even sure if I’m joking when I say that anymore. There is no one who can push through your rough spots except you, anyway, so why not think that you’re the greatest human being in the world? Sooner or later, my robot army will wipe out everyone and kill all who displease me (this almost certainly includes you), so try to have fun in the meantime. It is becoming clearer to me that I cannot use this blog to vent all of my frustrations the way I once did. It doesn’t seem to contain all of my crazed fantasies anymore, which might explain my growing sense of unease. When I was in high school, my class voted me…well, I won’t name the category, but basically, it amounted to, “Interesting guy, but we don’t know what to make of him.” I don’t know what to make of me either.

Part of the reason I work my current job is that I don’t know what my dream job would be. If I could make a living writing fiction, I probably would, but that wouldn’t solve all my personal problems, and maybe the root of the issue here is that I’ve been thinking that it would. I’ve touched upon this before lately, but so we’re clear: I am not going to give up blogging anytime soon. I have said nowhere near everything I want to say. There is, however, a part of me that is definitely getting tired of this shit. Tired of the same old routines, the same old problems, the same old (sniff) crushing loneliness that actually isn’t that crushing, just persistent and oppressive. There are answers. You may never find them. You may not even like them if you do. But they’re out there.

A Leave of Presence

Traffic for the past month has been abysmal. I try not to let it get to me, but that’s a little bit like not going on Facebook. You can hold out for a while, but sooner or later, you lapse. It’s human. These days, I’m lucky to get five page views per day. Five. Seriously, what the fuck? This is the worst traffic I’ve had since…ever, really. I remember a four-day stretch back when I was starting out during which the only page view I got was from me checking the traffic, but this is fucking absurd. Why is nobody reading this thing anymore? Fluctuations in my blog statistics always baffle me. The quality of the content, as far as I can tell, is as strong as ever. I still update regularly, so what gives? The best traffic I ever had was in January of last year, a period during which a lot of shit was happening. But the number of people reading this thing should not be directly tied to what’s going on with me. I have a lot of opinions. I’m not running out anytime soon.

I had something that I wanted to talk about here, but I can’t remember what it was. Fuck it. I’m not asking for pity. I’m not even asking for page views or “likes”, necessarily. I just wish that I had some idea of how what I do affects other people. There were people I knew in high school who are getting married, having kids, and making a hell of a lot more money than I ever have. So what the fuck am I doing here? Yeah, I know you’re not supposed to measure yourself by who wants to be your friend, but you’re missing the point. I work part-time at a job where nobody there seems to much care what I’m doing when I’m not at work and even when I am there, they basically just make small talk. Hooray. I don’t make much money and have no idea how I’m going to get out of my current situation. And I still don’t sleep very well most nights. So I think it’s time to shake things up. I’m not sure what I mean by that, not yet. All I know is that what I’m doing right now isn’t working.

There is a restaurant near where I live at which I have become a regular. It’s nothing too fancy, just a diner where they serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They just do it all so well. You could pretty much close your eyes and point to something on the menu. Odds are, it’ll be good. I try not to eat out too often. It costs more than staying in, of course, but since I’m not making that much money and have few prospects for the future, this paradoxically makes me more willing to eat at restaurants rather than staying in. When everything’s going right for you, it’s easy to do the “right” thing. So I’m trying to choose my words very carefully here. I’m not ready to unplug. I’m not going to stop going on social media for the time being, nor am I going to take a very long break from blogging. I’m just taking a step back, that’s all. I don’t want to quit my job and I can’t sever ties with my parents. Maybe I can just put a little bit more distance between myself and them, that’s all. I need the option of retiring from human society to be open if I choose to take it.

I finished the Harry Potter series last month. It was pretty good, but not amazing. If there is one character that I always identified with, it’s Lupin, probably because he knows when to let go. At first glance, his decision to resign because people don’t want a werewolf teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts might seem like a cop-out. But it isn’t, because he knows that this is a battle he can’t win. Yeah, he might be able to tough out the nonstop accusations that he is dangerous and untrustworthy, but then the bigoted parents will start refusing to let their children attend Hogwarts and that, indirectly, will hurt basically everyone he cares about. Change isn’t something you can force upon people. They either accept it or they don’t. I’m not as bitter or miserable as I’ve been at some of the other low points in my life, but I’m not going to pretend everything is wonderful either. The truth is starting to sink in for me that this year, just like every year before it and most likely every year after it, is not going to be The One Where It All Comes Together.

I think I’ve earned the right to feel a little sorry for myself. I think I’ve earned the right to wallow in self-pity. Neither my social life, my familial life, my love life, nor my professional life are anywhere near where they should be right now. And for a guy with some lofty ideals, I still like to think of myself as a pragmatist. So for the time being, I choose not to fight the good fight. I choose not to take up arms against a sea of troubles and set out to change (or rule) the world. For now, I’m going to try to have at least a little bit of fun. Failing that, I might at least gain some perspective. Because there is no one person or thing who can solve all of my problems right now. The closest I’ve got is a rough idea of what they are.

I like the final image, but I don’t think this one quite captures it.

Yeah, that’s more like it. Truth be told, I probably spend more time hunched over my computer than doing anything else.