I had the terrible thought that I would be helpful and wash dishes. I thought it would be something to do to kill time with. I've done a little irresponsible spending lately and could recoup. I wanted a peek into a friend's world who spends huge swaths of his life in a kitchen. I did not think spending 9 hours hunched over scalding hot pans and having filthy water splash over me would leave such an indelible impression.
That is, I'm not a stranger to hard work. In fact, one of the biggest reasons I thought offering myself to this gig would be to sort of remind myself that coming home a little sore or finding the rhythm of a menial task can actually prove to be somewhat rewarding. If I walked away with a quick $200 on top of that, great. I'm not concerned about my swollen fingers or, now that it has had adequate rest, my back giving out like I was last night. Nor was I “tired” in that I couldn't have kept working were it not for my reliance on being propped up on counters.
What made the shift insufferable were the endless stream of thoughts I've accumulated through years of work like that. I didn't find ten minutes of “flow.” I didn't stop hounding myself about what I'd rather be doing. I was genuinely saddened to learn I couldn't see Captain America: Civil War early because the shift was in conflict. Of all the damn movies in all the world to coincide with my stupid decision, why an awesome Marvel one?
I affirmed many things in going there. Even if I hate something, I still stick to it. I allowed myself to be drowned in my commitment. I didn't exactly ignore the pain, and I did inform the management I'd be perfectly fine with someone taking my Saturday spot, but I'll be back tomorrow if they don't find someone. I said my pain was worth it. I said they deserve my swollen fingers, aching back, and burns for $100. In the past, I wouldn't have thought twice about that dollar amount or the time. That's the wage, the offer, this is the task and duty. You volunteered. They were polite. Why do you still feel like this is so bad?
I think it's because I allowed more into my perspective about value and worth. It's important to keep commitments, but even better when you can respect and have a stake in them. There are perfect soldiers in every army, and that by itself shouldn't endear you to any one in particular. Every kitchen is the sum of its employees. I don't disavow leaders or think everything should be equally distributed, but I think it should be distributed. Not wages, a stake, ownership. As the owner, you worked so hard and so long that you feel entitled to take off early and get to regard yourself as a “job creator” or whatever. But you've been raised in a sick system that dignified dangling the carrot.
Consider The Avengers. Consider the damage they cause. Cities wiped out. Innocents dying. But do you ever truly question their moral compass? Do you ever worry they genuinely want to kill each other even during a civil war? A major theme of the movie is accountability, and as Captain America rightly points out, to whom? Governments with agendas? People incapable of determining the nature of an existential threat? The consequences of their battles are certainly not perfect, but it's hard to find a single disaster that wouldn't be worse without their intervention.
And aren't we fighting the same kind of war? Your boss is friendly. Your co-workers are funny. The mission statement of your office is to change the world and donate to charity. How do you negotiate what you're accountable to? If your moral compass isn't as fixed as a mythical superhero, what steps in to supersede bureaucratic grandstanding in order to save us? What do you bring to the fight that at least can show us that it's not about levying blame and sacrificing relationships, but bringing to a head difficult questions and conversations before they're forced on us.
I think you should own your work. Like heroes must accept the consequences. When it becomes about ego, revenge, or fear...you turn into the bad guy. I suppose I wanted an ego check. Maybe I couldn't tough out the grease and the attitudes. Of course I could, but it wasn't anymore worth it than when I put up with the particular problems of any other job that I didn't own. I have enough self-respect and sense of responsibility to not leave people hanging, but I don't believe in tacitly accepting the noose. At least not when you have a choice.
I feel like it's perfectly in line with a string of decisions I've made “just because.” Because of some vague notion of what I'd like to do in the future. Because I'm bored. Because I don't feel a part of a community. Where does that fit? I'm not angry, but I phrase things in ways that make me come off like everyone is the enemy. I'm not afraid of looking good or bad, which poses unique problems in and of itself. Where does boredom fit? Where does “I can't make people do anything” land me on the hero scale? I can put them off. I can ignore them. I can denigrate them. But I can't get them to offer honest time lines or often on the phone. I can't get them out of work. I can't persuade them I'm not just a whiny achy old douchebag who complains too hard about dishes.
It speaks to my obsession with stories. If you're paying attention, and the teller truly cares, they help you explain your life. They let you join the superhero team when you've only ever felt isolated or confused. Even telling the story is something of a resolve. It existing and validating. Perhaps I am the villain. Maybe I internalize a level of hatred I only dream others could experience. Maybe they'll get to suffer every minute of their sacrifice like I do. Maybe they'll drown in their thoughts. Maybe they can be coaxed over the cliff into a forced resolution.
I just...I want to believe in people like Captain America. I want to defend all the best we as a species have created and think individuals all have a vital role to play. But who is Captain America without the fight? A lost and jaded poster-boy. An ironic symbol of days gone by. He needs an enemy, even from his own ranks. So my fear is of what we're doing to ourselves. I want revenge for every wasted opportunity. I have a large enough ego to at least consider myself more than a dishwasher. I aspire to an ideal, but I won't get lost in the myth. I'll be the villain until you're willing to fight hard enough to defeat me.
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