I went out tonight. I didn't just see a show and rush home. I went out, then I went to bar after bar, nursing a beer while listening to the different crowds.
The first bar I sat next to a couple that pushed me to develop a comedy bit in my head. An "artsy" type was talking to a girl who was practically playing a character in her flirty responses to the things he was saying. You might imagine a normal person saying something like, "It's funny how you say that." This guy said, "I'm thinking about the comedy and introspection with which you responded to what I said. I'm picking up on…." I can't make that up. The bartender at that bar is why I go. He's a jovial, but tactless, generally enthusiastic person who appreciates music and quipping on pop culture. He was particularly displeased with a number of the clientele while I was there.
I left and went to the bar I would normally go straight to if I had an inclination to be out. It was packed. I didn't talk to anyone there either, but sat next to a group who, on their best day, I would have been annoyed with. What I describe as "pedo clothes and look" types who don Jeffrey Dahmer glasses and mustaches that certainly invented the concept of irony. I saw too-drunk types I reasoned I wasn't in the mood to ingratiate towards. There's always a group of insecure boys who eye pretty girls for too long that just didn't register as "fun." I nursed my beer, and left pretty quickly after, offering my salutations to the still-alive door man Mike.
I hoofed it to what was previously my primary bar back in the day. It's evolved, having renovated its bathroom and expanding its outdoor porch space. Here, I started talking to someone.
David is a 43 year old who considers himself something of a second fiddle to his girlfriend of 5 years who he thinks will be president of the university one day. He spoke about anger towards his father, now deceased, and his mother's fascist behavior. He was clearly intelligent enough to engage in a fair amount of introspection, but as dodgy as it gets when you attempt to nail him down to explore a specific feeling. I got him to do every single thing people do when they register you're smart, listening, and dialed in to the explanations they're offering.
At one point in our conversation, I asked him whether it was ADHD or a practiced habit to introduce some random thing to talk about when I make the offer to extrapolate a feeling. He made that face people do. That, "Oh, hmm, fuck, I never considered that, but ya know…hmmm, I don't know." He claimed ADHD, but it was avoidance through and through. He's angry at his dad. He doesn't know why his mom advocates for Trump. He's smart enough to entertain and understand my evolutionary psychology explanations, but, in his heart of hearts, he doesn't trust himself to accept and work with any given answer to a question, let alone the correct ones.
He dropped his glove off the porch and I had to pee. The conversation naturally concluded and he shook my hand, speaking to his deep appreciation that we spoke. I can only hope he doesn't return to his girlfriend provoked and insecure about the questions raised, but she may be better off if he doubles down on his worst tendencies.
This morning, I was contacted by one of my old Groups members. Some form I filled out for her needed tweaking or updating. I asked how the new counselor was doing and I got, "She's not you." This is from a client who was one of the more over-the-top professions of her desire and "definitely going to" sign up with me. The thing is, I believe her. I think she knows and believes there are plenty of polite, educated, nice-enough counselors who are not, and will not, do what I do. I don't think that is compelling enough to pick me over them.
Still, whether it's guys like David at the bar, or the tone of voice from a former client, I can't help but to think, "I'm good at what I do." I have tens of thousands of hours introspecting, asking questions, and studying psychological and philosophical schools of thought. I'm genuinely curious and literally have little voices and instincts that come up as people are talking to me. I've seen the pattern, or a fair version of it, I know the next question to ask, and I know the consequences of not doing so.
I didn't want to get wasted and crash into people's conversations tonight. I did want to be engaged in something more than passively watching a show or drinking for its own sake. I took my time. I waited for the person who organically was drunk/conversational enough to flow into my space, and then I went to work. If I'm "meant" for anything, it's articulating these patterns for people. It's making you make that face.
I also thought, this morning, as I was marathoning my movies and shows, that that's precisely what I wish to be doing. I want to watch the next thing as earnestly and consistently as I've wanted to do anything. I want to watch all of the Jackie Chan movies, and 007s, and foreign films on lists only cinephiles give a fuck about. I want to do that more than pay off debt or work a job. I want to play my instruments and fuck about on the land more than resemble "responsible adult" slogging away at a job he hates to keep the bills paid.
I felt like I was finally getting the order of operations correct. Keep watching, sleeping when I feel tired and waking up when I wish, and then working just enough. I'm not looking for a useless commute and 40 hours. I'm not looking for overtime. I'm looking to be left alone to fuck about as I see fit. If right now that costs $500 a month, that's 3-5 days Door Dashing and 25 days fucking about as I see fit. Meanwhile, I'm still investing in Upwork people to market, fundraise, connect me with people I'd never find alone, and work to build the environment that more monetarily substantially allows for me to fuck about.
They don't tell you that once you arrive, the responsibility and conversation shifts. You get the goal, now what? I have a very opaque idea of what constitutes "winning" while I'm doing it. My tolerance for risk and debt are pretty goddamn high. I'm not obligated to feel guilty that I'm doing what I enjoy with my ever-fleeting time. I'm not in denial about the practical waters I must dip into to sustain, but I feel I'm getting used to having broken the psychological chains trapping me to certain narratives on which thoughts to prioritize. It's liberating if you can trust you're not just going insane.
I mind the idea of Door Dash less when I think about what I'm focusing on when I'm not doing so. I mind debt less when I know it's going to be to see shows I might have a once in a lifetime opportunity to see. I'm already home. I don't need to get blackout drunk to find the conversations I'm good at. I don't need undue or naive validation to trust what I can provide is valuable. I'm not looking for someone to show me the door I'm unwilling or unable to find or walk through myself. I'm exactly where I've chosen to be, and continue to choose to be, every day, and I'm seeing how it plays out as a dramatic contrast to literally every other thing on offer. Of course it feels "off" or "wrong" or "incomplete." You're not here with me as a sounding board, or when you are, you don't tell me I'm wrong.
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