“You’re right,” I said, expecting him to know exactly what I was talking about. We’d only had the conversation two hours prior: a workday eternity. I slumped into a back room chair, next to where he sat counting our tips.
“I know I’m right.” Not everyone would be so blunt; from him I’d expect no less. But I wasn’t thinking about his personality quirks then, as he discussed the finer points of Why I’m Better Than This Situation, taking care to puff up my ego just a little. Just enough to counteract his earlier, “[Don’t take this the wrong way, but] you’re kind of bringing this on yourself.”
“…And he’s not being a good friend to you right now.”
“No.” A slightly reluctant concession. He hadn’t wished me luck on my interview. And he threw me off my game over the weekend, when I found myself at a party where females were the minority! A Brooklyn party where females were the minority, and there I was responding to conversational texts! Responding to conversational texts about food! “No, he’s not.”
_______
“The organization’s been furloughed since before I started here, over a year ago.”
I didn’t flinch, even as my inner dialogue cycled through stages: “Well, maybe she just meant for the summer, fuck, no she didn’t, well maybe I could still work a day or two at, why can’t anything not have a caveat, well as long as there’s health insurance I guess I could—FOCUS, LINDSAY, YOU NEED TO ASK QUESTIONS LATER THAT SHOW YOU’VE BEEN HANGING ON EVERY WORD.”
And I did. I asked great questions. I did not ask about health insurance, for if I’d not gotten the answer I needed, I have to have stopped her right there. Who wants to walk away without success, if it’s not entirely on your own terms?
1 year ago • 1 note
