and i made tough choices and ditched more than i wanted to in the interest of cleanliness. but it was a liberating experience, as purging always is, except for the bulimic. though, who am i to say their purge does not have a liberating aspect to it. it must, at least initially, that first feeling of cheating the natural order of things.
and i lay in my bed, it's light out, for at least two more hours, so i put on a black mask (i like complete dark to sleep, but unfortunately, my girl likes my mask, so it often goes mia. and i have to figure out new and inventive ways of shutting the light out. mostly, just put a pillow over my head, the age old remedy).
and there is this little click, click, click. and i know either a squirrel or some friendly bird is up to something and just have to see who it is.
it's some manner of woodpecker, the clacking wasn't that distinctive that i could tell without a glimpse (generally, i have to see the birds, i'm not so good at calling them out by sound, only the few i've seen making their peculiar sound can i call out by sound. it's a pretty tough way of birding, but i'm decent at it). now, i've had my eyes shut, blacked out, no glasses on, so i'm glaring out the window looking for this little bird making all the racket (not so much, i like to be a curmudgeon when possible, it keeps things fresh).
then, when i give up, as usually is the case, i see him. far out on a branch, standing on top, careening his little cream and dark colored body through the air and whacking the branch.
there you are little one.i say, and go to sleep.
my husband warned me i'd be up at midnight, but that would have been fine, i got up because i was lying there and felt i could be somewhat productive in my class this evening.
and the young model kept coming to me. i'm going to have to go give him my digits. because while he was stunning, that is not why, i keep thinking of what he said to me just before i left.
i was kind of perterbed having to train the new guy. but, whatever, i'm a team player, so i decided to give the kid my shpeal on the standards (everyone ignores). there are so many little things, carafes must be chilled for a minimum of twelve minutes, etc., that i convey these facts in an effort to enlighten the kids on there being more to the picture than just standing there leaning cooly against a counter.
he doesn't seem to balk and i notice, he's well educated. that's for sure.
turns out, he went to boarding school and just graduated from some big school in pennsylvania. i wondered about the story, but didn't press for it, because i was, after all, a stranger.
i homeschool my kid,i told him.
i wish i was homeschooled.he said.
and i smiled at this. it's not everyone who can appreciate the virtues of homeschooling. mostly i get people busting my chops about socialization (yeah, like putting thirty five kids in a room together is ever a good idea--that's the kind of socialization i can live without).
and then she calls, at some point, late in my shift.
hi baby,i said. (she hates it when i call her this in public, but on the phone, it feels "less" public, i guess you could say.)
mom.(with a drug out o, is the response i usually get when i let a baby fly in public. and around her friends, an apache staredown accompanies. which is the visual equivalent of a half-nelson. i kid you not.)
anyway, so i step to the side and we have our conversation. it's a quick, where's my pool pass conversation, so i'm off rapidly.
i have the actor making the toughest drinks, there are a few that have particular steps and amounts of whatevers to follow. the rest are just a couple shots and some milk, no biggie. but the ones that i asked him to make were the ones that required a bit of forethought.
he kept winging it. and that's the thing about these kids. i don't mind them winging it when they've made a drink before, or after training, but during. no. not never no. look up the recipe, that's my mantra.
it's the teach them how to fish mode of training. if i succle these kids on my presence and the information i provide, mysteriously (to them), then i'm crippling them, ultimately.
if, instead, i show them where the answers lie, i'm empowering them. at least that's how i see it. maybe i'm wrong. who knows.
the engineer had arrived about an hour into our five hour shift, and me and the actor had a bit more time to "train" but the engineer took over mostly, he's an MIT guy, and i'm inclined to let him lead, but i had to keep correcting him.
you see, that is one of the weirdnesses about my former manager's style. assistant managers are the ones who are responsible for training. yet, it felt more like a free for all before i left, with those who know decidedly less doing most of the training. never a good option in my mind.
and the engineer told me his interview consisted of my boss saying,
i've not read your application yet, tell me about yourself.
he says,
i go to MIT and am only here for the summer.
that's it. end of interview. she hired him.
at least he's there though, because there are a lot of things that need to be done, and i spent most of the time fixing what i could before i left, and the rest instructing the engineer on what needs to be remembered when i go.
he kept saying,
why is she trusting me with all this when i'm leaving in three weeks?
i said,
i don't know, but no one else is going to do it.because you see, he's really doing the job (sort of), of an assistant. a poorly trained one, mind you, but one nonetheless. he will likely be the one to take over most of my duties, as she's got plans to have him ordering, so i spent a bit of time telling him the wherefores.
but i did tell him,
don't volunteer for too much, none of this is your job.
but he's on his way to the same company i am working for when he returns to ann arbor. and i'm glad for him. maybe they can train him properly.
so, back to the model, he stood there as i was gathering my stuff to leave, with his hand outstreched to shake my hand. which i thought particularly kind.
and i smiled, then the engineer shook my hand. and i left with the model who said,
it's fortuitous that i met you before you left, because you remind me of my mom. i saw a picture of her once, she was native american and japanese.
it's my round face, ha?
yeah. and the long braids, she had those in the picture.
what happened to her,i asked.
she left.
wow.i said.
my dad raised me and my brother since i was younger than one.
that is such a cute way of putting it, younger than one. i've never heard it put that way.
funny thing is, after twenty one years, she just called to congratulate me on my graduation.
hmm. you going to see her?
i don't know. i talked to her on the phone.
right. it's hard. life is hard. who knows why we do what we do.
and i left him without profound words of any kind. just encouragement. but he has been in my mind since i met him and before i forget, i need to give him my digits. not that he needs my number or anything, but incase he wants it.
it might be easier, at least it might in my mind, to process with a stranger than a friend. i don't know. can't say he'd even receive it.
but if i look that much like his mother, maybe there is a reason why we met. and if i can help them through this transition (believe me, i understand a woman's mind), it would be my life's honor. not that i can, or necessarily will, but i certainly won't if i don't extend myself to the kid.
life is too short. too confusing to navigate alone. i've benefitted always from friends as sounding boards. i find them an invaluable resource. when i've wrapped my mind around something and still can't right it, friends are the ones who offer the essential means of objectivity. and i am forever grateful.
in fact, i value it so much, i try to offer that kind of ear and hand and heart to whomever will receive it. but not to those who demand it. that's the thing about people, if you force the bloom it breaks apart in your hand. if you wait, and watch, sometimes you get lucky and the morning glory unfurls before your eyes.
almost time for my class.
peace. out.
