Job

*I somehow missed the info on the new job!! What's the story?

*And what's the new job. ?????????????????? Inquiring minds and all that.

*A new job???? Did I miss something after you mentioning an interview?

*WHAT job?

Since inquiring minds want to know…

The job interview I mentioned a couple of entries ago blossomed into a job offer. I started work—with much fear and trepidation—this past Monday. The job is at a little restaurant that will be opening early next month in what our city fathers are trying to develop as "Old Town." Not too apt a name for it, as it looks like this will be entirely new construction…while the UGLY buildings erected early in the last century along Highway 30 through town will remain an eyesore. There’s even talk of some guy trying to sneak in a topless bar on the main drag, a block from the high school. I’m hoping that idea goes nowhere, as it would also be only three blocks from my house.

The bottom line is that I really don’t WANT to work for anyone else anymore, but I have to. After the debacle with our property taxes this past month, we are broke; and I still haven’t been able to scare up any May events for Café de la Rue. Unfortunately, the bills do not stop coming in even though I have a month of no income. We just took out a $20,000 loan on a new truck…and we haven’t sold the van yet, so we still have a monthly payment on it. Hence, I need a job.

What’s tough about getting a job, for me, is that I have no interest in doing anything but restaurant/food service work. I tried for years to put that ungrateful, low-paying, back-breaking world behind me. But, in the end, in spite of all the frustration associated with it, it’s all I really like to do. However, when you get to be "of a certain age," there are not too many places left in the industry that are willing to take a chance on you. These days, restaurant work is a world of young people and immigrants (legal and otherwise.) I made up my mind to go out and put in applications at the several little restaurants that are threatening J to open in town over the summer, just to see what would happen. Wonderof wonders, I was hired at the first one I applied to. And I feel pretty good about it; they hired fifteen out of over a hundred applicants. I made that cut, anyway. Though I’m sure that if this was not Scappoose, if it was some place closer to the urban center of Portland, I would not have stood a chance in hell of even a second glance. It was really pretty funny…I actually concentrated on looking "ageless" for those interviews. Swapped out my "old lady" glasses for a pair with more contemporary frames. Didn’t include my job history way back to the beginning. My DOB was a carefully guarded secret until after I was hired.

Even so, I’m not completely reconciled to the idea of having to go back to work. I had been away from that world for over a year, and it was starting to feel pretty good. I struggled with it for a really long time; but over the first couple months of this year I was finally feeling like I had found my equilibrium in the world of "semi-retirement." And then, BAM, a big old fist came down from the clouds and snatched that away from me. God forbid I should get too comfortable with any circumstance in my daily routine. Someone up there apparently wants me to stay flexible…to continue to respect the unpredictable nature of this thing called "life…" Every time I start to think, "I’m too old for that s**t anymore," someone throws it at the fan just to get me running again.