Dating : Someone Had to Do It

His alarm rang at the usual time of 4:30am. Ordinarily it would be difficult to wake up so early, but he had not fallen asleep to begin with.

If he got up by 4:30, he could make it to the airport by 5:30, and somehow make it to an 11:30am Eastern time meeting. He lived in Santa Monica. If only he had thought to book his stay starting on Sunday night instead. It’s not like he hadn’t been traveling for the past 5 weeks straight. What’s one more night in a hotel?

He rolled face first onto his pillow. It was pathetically flat. He wasn’t in his own bed enough to get proper pillows. Mustering his best willpower, he flipped over, pushed his covers off and made his way to the bathroom. He stood staring at himself in the mirror for a moment. His bloodshot eyes were beginning to look alarming. They were surrounded by the swollen bags and physical evidence of not sleeping for a couple months straight. Now where did he leave his tooth brush…

He shuffled around knowing fully well he would really have to get moving if he wanted to make his flight. Somehow he made it to the door. He’d be gone for another week. Before crossing the threshold of his doorway he looked back, glancing at this space he called ‘home.’ He lived alone. There were books and a keyboard and hell, it was a one bedroom apartment in Santa Monica — he was living well.

But the decrepit nature of his being reeked with the lifelessness of a ghost. He sure felt like a ghost. Traveling here and there, daily. Making friends for a month, and then all returning home. Sometimes they stayed in touch. In fact sometimes they became fast friends by partying until all hours of the night on the company’s tab. That was one perk to this job, to this life.

He shut the door behind him quickly to stifle his lingering thoughts — there was no time for that. He made it to the airport on time. This process was a well oiled machine by now. Five hours later he landed in New York. He loved the city, but he couldn’t live here. It was just, a lot. Given the nature of his job he needed space and nature to keep himself in balance. Although he was never in balance.

As miserable as he was becoming by the day, he couldn’t help not leading this life, he was born into it. Born into striving. Born into competition. Born into expectation. And he held that expectation for himself. He was smart and could get things done. His dad was an executive at Boeing and was in line to become CEO. There was no room for stopping or shortcomings in his childhood. It sounds harsh and it was, but he didn’t resent it entirely.

After his first meeting ended by 12 pm, he had to fit in about three hours of work before the next meeting at 1pm. Which meant he wouldn’t finish his work. Once that meeting finished by 3pm, he glanced down at his phone to see a text from his old friend from high school.

They had been best friends since they were 16. Their lockers were next to each others even before that. What a complicated relationship it was. He had been in love with her in high school, or so he thought. At the time she dated an idiot who smoked too much weed, wasn’t funny or particularly intelligent, and broke his front tooth in a cliche teenage rousing. Oddly enough though she spent all her time with him, not the boyfriend. The boyfriend resented him. It was a weird dynamic. She must have know he was in love with her. How could she date this buffoon when he was right in front of her?

Maybe he was too skinny. It wasn’t his fault. Eating was boring to him. It was a waste of time and he forgot to do it often, so it was hard to keep weight on. But he knew his stature didn’t bode well with the ladies, as much as they insisted this wasn’t the case. Sure.

Anyways, they had been friends for over 10 years at this point, and things were different now. They were just children back then. He had imagined a life with her when they were younger, but things got messy. The girls at Duke where he went to college were more driven than her and he found them intriguing. She dated other guys, and a woman too. He never really understood that, but accepted it. She was one of a kind that’s for sure. She had spent a year in New Zealand after graduating college, doing who knows what. He called her one day and they talked for two hours.

“This is the life man, I can’t believe I actually get to live this way,” she gushed.

“I can imagine. Well…I guess I can’t exactly. I mean, what are you even doing there? Do you have a job?”

“Of course I have a job!” she retorted. He could tell she felt he was projecting a particular agenda on her. She had these periods of pushing societal norms away and this was her biggest push yet. Moving her stuff home from living in DC, flying across the world by herself. He did admire her courage, but it was all fun and games to her. Everything had to be good. She couldn’t stand to be in discomfort or sadness or anything bad.

“I’m just wondering jeez,” he accepted in defense. “So what are you doing then?”

“Well I work for a recruitment agency. I live in a hostel outside the CBD and it’s absolutely amazing! I meet people from all over the world every day, and there’s this palpable community. It’s just beautiful…you wouldn’t understand.”

Of course he understood. He would love to meet new people. He would love to party and cook and play games. But he was 28 years old. He had worked hard to get a job at the top consulting company in the country. He needed to establish himself and had grown up in a house where that was important and worthwhile. Working hard was hard, but a worthy pursuit.

“I guess I wouldn’t.”

“I mean, do you even like your job? I feel like every time I talk to you nothing has changed. Your life is work.”

Thanks for pointing out the obvious. He was well aware he had no life. He was well aware that to the average person he seemed lifeless and worn out.

“Well, someone has to do it.”

It just slipped out. He had never thought about it that way, but it was too easy to admit that he felt this sense of duty to do this job. Of course, it was his choice. And yes, he made very good money. It’s not that he was ungrateful for the things it gave him. But he was void in many critical areas. It was beginning to almost turn into a self sabotaging pursuit.

He was alone a lot. This wasn’t foreign to him. His dad was gone for weeks at a time in his childhood. He’d see him on the weekends here and there. His mom stayed home and was sweet as can be, but it wasn’t the same. His siblings were nerds. Of course he wasn’t perfect socially, but he’d like to think he could hold his own. He just had nothing in common with them, except the same parents really. It was weird.

“What do you mean, someone has to do it? Why are you playing by the book so much?” This narrative had been her go-to for the past year. She thought she was viewing the world differently, but she was being immature. He didn’t disagree, he would love to quit his job and go explore. Why wouldn’t he? That would be easy. Constantly searching for the good. For the happy.

Amidst her ignorance, he had to admit this was one of the reasons he loved being around her — even if their world view had ebbed and weaved across their twelve year friendship. She made him think he could be happy too. That he could search for the good and that he was deserving of it.

One of the reasons he fell in love with her is because she was one of the first people to accept him. To want him around, invite him places. He remembered when he’d pass her in the hallways and her whole face lit up when she saw him. He’d never felt that kind of excitement from anyone before. It was infectious and palpable. At prom their favorite song came on and he searched the dance floor to find her eyes already on his. They had different dancing partners but that seemed irrelevant in their shared connection.

Now she lived in New York. After returning from to the States from New Zealand she had moved here. If she wasn’t confusing enough already, a move like that certainly didn’t help. From sheep and hostels to high rises and heels.

Anyways he looked down at his phone to see her text:

Meet me for dinner at 7? Want to come Downtown or should I meet you at your hotel?

He was staying at the Essex House right outside Central Park. It was very nice. Part of him wanted her to come Uptown to see him in his suit and extravagant hotel. To see how others treated him in this context. But a larger part of him wanted to be around people his own age and to relax a bit. She lived Downtown so he might as well make it easier for her.

Sounds good. Let’s go Downtown. How about that wine bar you like in Nolita? YN it’s called right?

That’s the one! I’ll see you then.

Knowing that he didn’t have to go home to an empty hotel room after work made the rest of the day go by much easier. He was obviously around coworkers often and people generally, but they were strange and had hidden agendas. They did whatever it took to get on the right project. Brown nosing the Partners, derailing projects to get their plan presented to the client, the list went on. He understood this was part of the process and he had done it himself. But it wasn’t all in vain. That process had lead him to some pretty cool experiences. He staffed a technology overhaul for NASA and their satellite systems. He had been on a customer experience digital transformation for Chick-Fil-A. It wasn’t all glamorous, but the projects were invigorating and challenging. He loved that. He loved not knowing anything about an industry or the challenge the business was facing, and it was up to them to figure it out. He was with the best and the brightest. And even through the sleepless nights (months) and lonely hotel rooms and travel, he felt like he was doing something exciting. At least most of the time.

He worked until 6:30, quickly showered and Ubered Downtown. He’d have more work to do after dinner, but he gave himself a break. The city was magnificent at night. This was the New York everybody loved. As the car drove south the views changed from large avenues with sky rises, to four story apartment buildings and quaint bars on every street corner. He could see why she loved living Downtown. It was vibrant, alive, bustling and just, special. There was history everywhere and a uniqueness that couldn’t be found in any other city in the world. There was grunge on the East and idyllic on the West, all within a 20 minute walk.

He asked the driver to drop him off a block or two away as the streets became one way. He wanted to get out and be a part of it anyways. It was March so it was still cold, but you could see and feel hints of Spring approaching. He walked down the almost European side streets of Elizabeth, Mott and Spring Street. In the distance he could see her coming.

She had a deep red lipstick on — that was a new look for her. He had to admit she looked good. New York suited her in a weird way. Her jacket was a bit long and her hair was natural, but overall she looked sophisticated.

“Well look who it is,” she smiled as she opened her arms to hug him.

“You should talk! I barely even recognized you in that lipstick. Since when did you start…dressing up?” he joked as he met her embrace.

“Um excuse me, I’ve always dressed up,” she countered sarcastically. He had seen her makeupless, wearing high top Converses and large flannel shirts for the past three years. She had had a hiatus from femininity for a while, so this was new.

“Well you look nice. I mean it,” he offered. They were solidly friends so he wasn’t trying to flirt, he was being genuine. Amidst all their differences, he wanted the best for her.

“Thank you that’s very sweet of you,” she accepted. “And gives me the positive affirmation for my appearance that I’ve been needing for a few months now. You know there are actual paid, models that live here right? Competition is brutal let me tell you.” He laughed. She certainly wasn’t afraid to make a joke at her own expense in the most humanizing way.

They swung the door open to the wine bar on Mott Street that was exceptionally tiny, so much so that they almost hit the diners at the bar upon entering. There was a side bar big enough for two that looked out onto the street, followed by a main bar trimmed in tea lights against an exposed brick wall, leading you to the back where there were about four tables. It was a typical Downtown restaurant, but as cosy and characteristic as could be. They found a table in the back where a waitress immediately came over. She spoke in a thick Italian accent to match the ambiance. They ordered a bottle of wine to start.

At that point they fell right back into sync with each other. They joked as they did when they were 18. It had been six months since he had last seen her, but he still didn’t have life many updates. Just the occasional family update. His brother and sister-in-law were pregnant. His dad now the CEO of a new aviation company that worked closely with the government. He had been on a few App dates. It was the same story. He’d date the stereotypical LA girl for about 3 weeks. They all loved yoga and self care and the beach. He enjoyed their company for company’s sake, but most of the time he was away for work. It was virtually impossible to start a relationship while out of the state for three weeks out of four.

“Why don’t you request to be on a project in LA then? Or I guess the broader question is, when will human connection and a relationship outweigh your dedication to this job a little?” She caught him off guard with her question.

I mean, of course he had asked to be on projects in LA. Although a lot of the exciting ones were not there. He had been at the firm for five years and was almost a Project Lead. And he had worked damn hard to get there, it wasn’t really the time to give up just yet.

But he was certainly missing things in his life. Even sitting in this cozy, dimly lit, dare he say romantic little restaurant with a girl he had know for more than half his life…

Thinking like that would make the job even harder than it already was. To consider what else he could be doing with his life. To think about what it would mean to spend his time the exact way he wanted to. To work on something meaningful. It was a lot to ponder on top of the 18 hour days. His schedule taxed him mentally and physically enough, he couldn’t have second guesses.

“Yeah, I mean you make a good point. And I know that my life doesn’t make sense to you, but I can’t give it up just yet. What would I have put all this effort in for then? I’ve sacrificed so much already and sometimes that’s what it takes. It can’t all be good all the time.”

He checked for her reaction. He didn’t mean for that to be directed at her, but it was the truth nonetheless. He wanted to make something of himself and sometimes that took being lonely in the near term. Sometimes it took sacrificing weekends with friends to work and travel for an important project. Right?

“I understand I guess. I just would never want to live my life that way. We’re only here for so much time you know, and it goes by so quickly now. I feel like I don’t even do that much and all of a sudden it’s six months later. I’d hate for you to feel like you were stuck or felt trapped in a certain life that wasn’t giving you what you need right now.”

He paused and exhaled. “Yeah I mean that’s fair and I appreciate you worrying about me, I do. But it’s just that, I don’t really know anyone that’s in a job they absolutely love? Do you love your job? Does it give you what you need inside and out of work?”

“Ha!” she blurted out. “Of course not! I don’t hate, hate my job like I did before I quit everything and moved to New Zealand, but I certainly don’t love it. It’s a job. I can do it well enough, it’s interesting…enough. I feel a little over qualified for it if I’m being honest, but I’d rather not get fired. I don’t really know what I would focus on specifically if I wasn’t doing this. And hell, I think I’ll just marry rich.”

She was always pulling this shit. One minute she wanted to be a stay at home mom like her own mother, and the next she’s saying that’s pathetic and that women are smarter and can do more than that. It was always ironic to him the way she threw around the idea of marrying rich, and yet looked down upon men that worked long hours. Didn’t it occur to her that that’s what it took to become rich? Those men, and some women, while following a specific culture were sacrificing time with their friends, with their families, with anyone! To grind away into what they perceived as something worthwhile. To become better, more prepared, acquire new skills, be better than the average. Make more to be able to provide more than the average. It was right in front of her face and he just didn’t have the heart to explain this to her. You can’t have it all. Someone has to do it.