Quiet Desperation

¡Hola! Everybody...
Yeah, yeah, yeah. So I haven’t done my taxes... yet. LOL

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-=[ Hard Times ]=-

The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.
-- Henry David Thoreau

Times are hard and today too many of my friends and loved ones face brutal challenges. I don’t think there is any humor in this, nor will I attempt to offer some “power of positive thinking” bullshit crap cliché. Times are tough... Period.

Me telling you to “keep your head up,” or not to worry because “it will be OK,” would be arrogant, insulting, and unfeeling. The truth is I don’t know if it will get better, nor will I presume keeping your head up will make your situation more bearable, and I really I don’t know how you feel. I guess what I’m getting at is what do you say when in reality there isn’t much to say? How do you tell, for example, a parent who just buried her child that “it will get better”? Or what the fuck does “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle” mean?

Sometimes, I swear... people say the dumbest things.

I think the best you can do for someone experiencing difficulty is to be present with them. Just being there, willing to listen without attempting to make things better, often works wonders. Sometimes people just want to know that you’re there with them, witnessing along with them. In the midst of hard times, we oftentimes wonder if our perceptions are valid. It sometimes helps to have someone there with you, saying, “Yeah, this shit is fucked up!” Go ahead, embrace that sadness, own up to the frustration, it 's OK. You are going through a rough patch.

Outside of giving them a job, there really isn’t much you can tell someone who’s unemployed that would make them feel better. I’m almost certain they’ve already heard the “keep your head up” exhortation literally dozens of times.

I remember being unemployed for over a stretch of 18 months. I was rejected so many times it wasn’t funny. My self-esteem was at an all-time low, and believe me, I’ve been through more shit than most people can claim. I’m not saying that my experiences somehow make me more unique than you, I’m simply pointing out the truth of a life lived on the margins and the resulting wreckage and collateral consequences.

I remember one interview that I thought I had nailed. It was actually quite funny in retrospect. I interviewed for a non-profit and the executive director (an African American) and the supervisor (obviously a New York Puerto Rican) were women.

I arrived about 15 minutes early, anxious, and nervous -- I really wanted this position. Anyway, I announced myself to the receptionist and then went to the men’s room to urinate.

Finally, it was time for the interview. We sat in a conference room with the supervisor sitting across from me, and the ED sitting next to me. After some preliminary remarks and introductions, the interview began in earnest and I was kicking some ass. I mean, I knew I was hitting home-runs. I even caught my potential supervisor nodding in the affirmative to the ED. But the ED didn’t seem to be convinced, she kept asking more questions, and her body language was off. She didn’t face me, nor look me in the eye, and it seemed as if something about was troubling her.

Not one to give up, I kept firing away and the supervisor was practically doing cheerleader routines in response to my answers. But the ED, I could tell, was unconvinced. For some reason I couldn’t figure out, she apparently didn’t see me as an apt candidate.

Finally, the interview was over and I was left with the sense that I had one-half of the team sold. I stood up, shook hands all around, and took my leave. I remember that it was a cool, brisk March day that day because the moment I stepped outside I felt a cool breeze around my groin area. When I looked down, I realized that in my anxiety, I forgot to zip my zipper after using the restroom and had done the whole interview with my fly completely open. To compound matters, because I had no clean underwear (no money for laundry) I hadn’t worn any that day.

So my cock had to have been in full view throughout the interview!

I realized that’s why I had such a different effect on the two women. The supervisor sat across from me and was therefore shielded from my crotch area by the table, while the ED, who sat next to me, was treated to various perspectives of the one-eyed-blind-snake-that-sometimes-spits.

LMAO!!! I had to stop in the middle of the street I was laughing so hard. I wasn’t offered the job, though the ED called me a day later and asked if I would interview for a different (part time) position. I said I was interested, but she never called back.

But in typical Eddie fashion, this isn’t the end of the story. Many years later, I began a new exciting position and invited to meet the board members. Guess who was one of the board members? LOL! Yup! It was that ED. I saw her face and I prayed she wouldn’t recognize me, but she came over and, sure enough, she remembered that I interviewed for her once. JesusFuckinCherrrrrist!

The moral of the story? Well, I guess outside of making sure your genitals aren't on show before an important job interview, I can’t think of anything else. Or maybe your mother's admonition to always wear clean underwear has some value...

Here’s wishing you all the best, and if you ever need someone to stand there with you, may you have friends who know and appreciate the importance of listening (or at least a funny story to share).

Love,

Eddie