Episode 90: General contractors: They're busier than you are

Lately I have been kind of stressed out over the whole 'not having a career' thing, freaking out about stupid things, usually concerning long term finances, like how I don't have any sort of retirement fund or any plan for finding any sort of real job, and like always, most of it is completely overblown. I blame the stress on two things. First, that human resources course I have been taking really got me thinking about the corporate world, most specifically, how I don't in any way fit in to such an environment. My brain is not analytical in any way. I don't particularly understand finances or business practice, and I am really, really bad at pretending to give a shit. The course has improved a little bit and I am starting to become less annoyed with the concept, but I really can't ever picture myself caring about any job enough to worry about half of the crap I am supposed to worry about. I am way to regular of a guy to be a 'champion of business.'

My above thoughts were confirmed last Friday when I got roped in to a crappy conversation with some douchebag dad named Josh at the park. Josh was taking a personal day from his super important job because he had to fly to Syracuse in the morning for business and he accompanied his wife and kids to the playground. Putting aside the fact that his bitch daughter kept stealing Av's toys and not giving them back, the experience was awful because this guy wouldn't stop talking to me. At first it was fine because we just talked about our kids (although, he did keep trying to tell me how to parent, which pissed me off considering that his kid couldn't even handle being told 'no'), but then the conversation switched to business. He kept baiting me to ask what he did for a living and finally I gave in. The thing is, I sat there and listened to him talk about it for 20 minutes and I still don't know. Something about bio pharmaceuticals and engineering or something like that. Whatever it was, the conversation was just like a pile of complicated terms and issues that I couldn't even begin to understand. I had to hear about mergers and acquisitions, genomes, cells and all sorts of other things that sounded so complicated I can't even remember them. I'm pretty sure there was a pop quiz on the periodic table somewhere in there, too. When it was all said and done he finally asked what I did (only to be polite, he didn't care) and I said 'bartender.' Needless to say, the conversation ended around that time. I could never go to work every day and have to deal with guys like Josh.

The second thing I blame for this stress is radio and television ad's. Everyone in television commercials are successful, many of them leading lives so busy that they have to stream their business meetings from public parks or in the middle of airports, secure proposals on their cell phones and instant message their spouses about their 401 (K) while they are on their lunch breaks. From listening to radio ad's I am now convinced that I need to somehow find a way to make money, then secure my investments in gold, or perhaps refinance some sort of loan that I don't yet have. I understand that these people are not real, but they represent a large part of America. A part of America that I feel like I am locked out of. The problem is, simply, that life is swirling way too fast out there. I spend my day handing bread to ducks, watching baby shows and bar tending to pay the bills. I don't even balance a check book. I still have that 2005 cell phone that caught fire in my pocket. I didn't know who Justin Bieber was until like two weeks ago. It is like I virtually don't exist.

I bring all of this up because my recent stress was really compounded by a very nice but very talkative general contractor named Vincent. At or about the same time that I was really stressing about finding a useful, important job our bathtub started to leak in to the apartment downstairs. The downstairs landlord (our building is actually four condos owned by four separate people, three of whom are renting the property out ), who was a massive bitch about the entire situation, decided based on nothing that the issue was us overflowing the tub and asked us to re-caulk and put a towel down . I was not real keen on doing that, since the problem was very obviously that the faucet was leaking and not incompetence on our part, and luckily our landlord agreed, pointing me toward Victor.

After all the radio ad's, HR terminology and stuck up business dads at the park, Victor emerged as the single individual that made me feel more horrible than all of the others combined. First, I called him at what I thought was a reasonable time to catch him before his day started, 8:15 a.m. He answered the phone to inform me that he was 'hanging off of a building' and to call him back an hour later, obviously not understanding the anxiety that I get when I have to deal with situations like this. Victor called back to inform me that he had 'about three or four jobs today' but he would try to make it over. Without calling, Victor appeared at my door about four hours later and wanted to get in to the house. After looking at the tub he left without saying anything, other than he needed to go get his brother who is a plumber. About an hour later, Victor returned with no brother, but with a wrench. He took apart the faucet and said that he had to wait for his brother to get here. The next 45 minutes were spent listening to Victor's life story, which included graduation from college with a degree in aerospace engineering and starting his own company, which he later sold for over $1 million. After retiring for a year, he decided that he wasn't quite successful enough, so he bought up a bunch of property and became a handy man. Now in to his 50's, he makes about $1,000 a week, you know as his 'spending money' so he doesn't have to touch that cool $1 million he has hanging around in his retirement fund. Again, I had little to nothing to add to the conversation. Um, I almost own this computer. I once graduated from college. That's about it.

What the situation taught me is this. I should probably stop worrying about it because I don't particularly want any part of a life like that, other than the money. I may not be successful in any way, but I never have to stream a video of myself to my kid from first class so she doesn't forget who I am because I am on a business trip. I may not own much, but when my tub leaks I don't have to pay some handy man $200 to stand around in my kitchen and talk to my tenants when he could just be replacing a leaky faucet, and I may not have enough money to secure in gold, but I have enough to invest in a six-pack and some sushi for dinner, and that is enough to put a smile on my face.