So I was thinking about this last night before I went to sleep.
This would have been in like the spring of 2008. February or March or so. My fiancé Jenny and I (my now wife) had gotten engaged like a month before. We were living in Colby at the time. She, a nurse, and me…basically freelancing anything I could. Worked at the local newspaper, did some substitute teaching, would move things for people. Basically whatever I could do to make some money. We were in our mid twenties and wanted to leave the small town and go out to make our way in Denver. She would have no trouble finding work as a nurse, I figured I was going to have some trouble.
At that time I had a B.A. in English, which set me a part somewhat, but in truth, looking back, everybody had some kind of liberal arts degree. I didn’t really have any education or experience that would set me a part. So I was going to have to work my way up whatever ladder it was that I would eventually find myself under. I was determined, had a pretty decent personality and looks that lent me a certain charm to people. I was young and in love. I figured I just had to grind a bit and things would fall into place. New love makes you think you can do quite literally anything you want.
But this really isn’t about that. What I was thinking about last night before I went to sleep, was this dude I interviewed for a job with during that time period in my life, who wore a like straight up 1930s gangster pinstripe zoot suit. It really made an impression on me. The guy was like 5’3” and was wearing a suit that looked made for a dude about 6’. The pant legs of his zoot suit were huge and rolled up over these like white and black patent leather 1930s shoes. He took off his suite jacket when we sat down for the interview and had suspenders to keep up his huge pants. The sleeves of his undershirt were rolled up and he was just blasted with tats on his arms. From what I recall he was actually pretty nice, which surprised me because he definitely had some short dude syndrome going on. Just a kind of leery look in his eye, like he was just waiting for me to mention his height or huge suit so he could punch me in the face. But we ended up getting along pretty good.
The job was for some kind of sales thing. It was a job posting in the Denver Post. I called to inquire and basically had an interview with zoot suit like 15 min after I called, or however long it took me to navigate Colorado Blvd to where his office was, which was in some kind of small strip mall of Colorado. Man the details get a bit foggy because I had been applying like crazy to about any job posting I could find, so some of this may be bleeding together but I just got the district impression that this job and this office in the strip mall were funded by zoot suits dad. He was maybe 2-3 years older than me if that. He just kind of walked around the office like he owned the place, but not like he owned it in the sense that he built something, but more like a little kid showing off his toys to his friends. There was one other employee, a blonde tatted up secretary that I am pretty sure was his girlfriend. I think she must have been cute, because I remember thinking that this dude was, remarkably, hitting just way out of his league with her. But I digress…
The interview must have went well but I ended up declining the job because it seemed a bit of a scam. But ultimately took a job that was definitely a scam.
Geeze I am going to need to back up here for some reference. I think I am getting ahead of myself and exactly where I was at in my life. So Jenny and I were going to move to Denver. I was kind of going ahead as somewhat of a 2 month scouting mission. I was trying, somewhat successfully, to find work in Denver and set us up with an apartment or something. While I was on this mission, I was living at my Uncle Jim’s in Westminster. They had a super nice place and were super gracious in letting me stay and eat there for nothing. Which is all I could afford at the time.
During the day I went to a series of jobs and interviews. Telemarketing-which I was surprisingly good at but hated. A medical device company that my buddy Marc set me up with- totally fucked up the interview, had it in the bag but fucking blew it, had I done well I would probably be filthy rich today. Some guy my uncle knew paid me cash to move some shit. Looking back, I really had no idea what I was doing with my life and that is painfully obvious. But I was 25 and in love.
So after declining zoot suites likely pyramid scheme job opportunity, I accepted a position in sales at a legitimate pyramid scheme. Now at 40, I look back at 25 year old me with laughter and thing “what a fucking retard” but at the time 25 year old me was looking at 40 year old me with abject terror and a not small amount of disrespect. To my defense, I only worked at the pyramid scheme job for 1 day.
Let me tell you about this fucking job. First off, I think they only hired me because I had a car. Which was surprisingly not a common train amongst my fellow co-workers. The pay structure was very confusing. There were no well defined “pay-periods”. Someone gave me $50 at the end of the day and it wasn’t the boss, pretty sure it was a co-worker who felt bad that we put 100 miles on my car, using my gas, as we drove all over the fucking metro area to sell god knows what. I had this little white Ford Escort and there were 5 of us packed into that little thing, including an enormous black dude Frank who was kind of our team lead and was a prolific weed smoker (and actually made a sale, which surprised everyone in the group including Frank) and this very old guy Jeff who I am pretty sure was homeless and chain smoked out my car window all day.
I don’t remember what we were selling. The guy I interviewed with was a tall good looking dude named Matthew who had an office downtown, off south Broadway which was not a nice area at the time. To this day I am still not clear on what we were selling, though Matthew claimed it was a lifestyle. I am not sure what lifestyle is being sold when 5 fucking dudes roll up and spill out of a 2002 Ford Escort but there we were, living it.
They guys were all very cool, and looking back, it wasn’t a bad day. Since I drove they all pitched in to buy me lunch, which included a few beers, and like I said someone, honestly I think it was Jeff, gave me $50 at the end of the day to help with gas, etc. We ended the day as we began it, back at the main office on South Broadway doing some kind of debrief and motivational cheer. I got big kudos from Matt for my first day and Frank was commended for actually making a sale. We put our hands in the middle of the huddle and broke for the day. I gave Jeff a ride to a bus stop and said I would see him tomorrow. I knew I would never see that man again in my life and I would never go back to that kind of shit. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life in terms of a career but it wasn’t going to be that. I did not give two weeks, I did not give any notice in fact. I just didn’t answer the phone the next day while eating breakfast at my uncle’s. I got five calls and a few voicemails before they got the hint. I don’t remember much about the messages other than Matt seemed a bit panicked and mentioned a few times that they were counting on me to drive.
So I am 40 now. This all happened 15 years ago. My oldest daughter is 15 as well! That is probably what focused me more than anything. I have been in my current career, via one form or another, for almost that same amount of time now. Sometimes I guess it helps to figure out what you don’t want to do first and then narrow it down.
