S
Sneed
Guest
I'm in Starbucks working as us unemployed writers do, transcribing interviews for a book I, like all writers, pray becomes a bestseller while sending freelance pitches out and blogging....but this post isn't about me.
It's about the guy sitting across from the, the guy who just had a phone conversation on which I just inadvertently eavesdropped.
"Is (Bob Smith) available?" he says. "Oh, hi, Mr. Smith. I just saw your ad for (insert job here). I was wondering if--"
He then pauses, clearly interrupted by a long-winded statement of some kind. When he eventually responds, his upbeat tone sounds painfully forced.
"Oh," he says. "Well....is there anything else?"
And those four words--"Is there anything else?"--just broke my heart a little bit, and I'm not even sure why. He had no ring on his finger; he was losing his hair; I've seen him in here for a few days in a row now, on the phone, making calls which must have gone no better.
And then I thought of all of us, the struggling-to-find-work writers or the scared-of-losing-job reporters. I don't know why, but I just felt like sharing. And I just feel like saying, press on. When all looms ahead, press on. Maybe we won't what we want--but at least we'll have tried.
EDIT: Making this update seconds after posting that, for just now, my email "blinged" at me, and there's an editor from a magazine replying to a query. And it's a good reply, so now I feel like there actually was a reason behind posting that.
Press on.
It's about the guy sitting across from the, the guy who just had a phone conversation on which I just inadvertently eavesdropped.
"Is (Bob Smith) available?" he says. "Oh, hi, Mr. Smith. I just saw your ad for (insert job here). I was wondering if--"
He then pauses, clearly interrupted by a long-winded statement of some kind. When he eventually responds, his upbeat tone sounds painfully forced.
"Oh," he says. "Well....is there anything else?"
And those four words--"Is there anything else?"--just broke my heart a little bit, and I'm not even sure why. He had no ring on his finger; he was losing his hair; I've seen him in here for a few days in a row now, on the phone, making calls which must have gone no better.
And then I thought of all of us, the struggling-to-find-work writers or the scared-of-losing-job reporters. I don't know why, but I just felt like sharing. And I just feel like saying, press on. When all looms ahead, press on. Maybe we won't what we want--but at least we'll have tried.
EDIT: Making this update seconds after posting that, for just now, my email "blinged" at me, and there's an editor from a magazine replying to a query. And it's a good reply, so now I feel like there actually was a reason behind posting that.
Press on.