lurch

I remember my boss saying: 'some people think everything happens for a reason- I don't. Some things just happen.'
I had just walked out of work the day before and my boss was rightfully angry with me. I was not in a good place and was tired of driving around Seattle's surrounding area in a dinky van with "fresh made" pasta, delivering to fine dining establishments and some grocery stores. Traffic was not pleasant and I had never lived there so being a driver didn't make sense, but they needed a driver and it paid better than the job I had originally gone out for, which was working behind a counter in their Pike Place Market shop. They had really good food, and the market is located in such a nice location on the water by all the touristy shops near where they toss the fish on ice and yell and stuff. It may have been better to just ask for the original job, where I may have stayed happy longer. But I guess everything happens for a reason.
Instead of the world of sunshine (yes the sun sun shines there too) on the Puget Sound I ended up in a grey industrial area that is not far from another nice body of water, but there were no people walking gleefully on these streets. It was into the factory where a small group of people made everything from sundried tomato linguine to spinach and cheese ravioli. It was a strange experience, just witnessing the operation and the reality of production. I admired that it was a small scale place and still doing well. Yet every day in there seemed grey no matter how much sunlight was beaming outside. I felt lucky to be able to drive around and see the area. The worst feeling of walking out was the fact that it was a small group of people and this was their livelihood. I had to go back to work and see everyone, and that was a challenge but I am glad I did. Its hard to describe the sort of blankness I saw in the routine of labor, which seemed to underscore much of what I learned and focused on while in Seattle. There are so many union workers who work repetitive jobs that are necessary to keep the cogs and wheels rolling in society. And a lot of dispute goes on determining who deserves what. But this place was different, it was small and private. Of course there is no excuse for leaving unexpectedly, but I just couldn't take anymore driving pasta around one day in the middle of a shift and I left leaving the boss with the task of delivery. So he wasn't pleased.
Its only pasta, but it is really the principle of behavior that was the bigger issue at hand. Obviously it was not going to be a longterm job in all probability, but it was a job.
In the interview for the job, which took place at a coffee shop, two or three people walking by said hi to me. These were recent acquaintances, as I had only been there a month or so and knew only one person slightly who was not one of the people who walked by. So these were basically all strangers saying hi, but the boss felt that this was a good sign, and even though I was new to town it seemed to him that I was settling in nicely. So I felt lucky at first and did enjoy some of the scenery and driving when the traffic was good. I remember going south on a highway to Olympia, and the mountains surrounding were vivid and large, and next to the road were low-lying puddles with marsh grass. Jimi Hendrix's Voodoo Chile playing on the radio "...next to a mountain, chop it down, with the edge of his hand". The world was immense, and as one friend in Tacoma put it, "It feels like gravity is heavier here". I remember seeing in the distance all the huge docking cranes on the water, reddish orange, hunching, lifting, moving slowly, archaically, and thinking that they were massive long neck dinosaurs, reincarnate.
On my long walk to work in the mornings I would sometimes trek through high fenced areas under highways, climbing and jumping on loose dirt and fill rocks, smelling the scent of wet cement in the misty air. The concrete juxtaposed against tree lined islands and radiant views of Mt Tahoma, a giant looming volcano akin to Fuji, made for interesting dynamics. Not far from my mind were social issues of the day, in the wake of a big protest against the World Trade Organization, which I came out to Seattle originally for after hearing it happened and being interested in finding out what people had to say and to find out more about what was happening in the world of current events, which I had not been paying much attention to in the months previous. Going over my thoughts, walking down the steep hill, which I would have to walk up after the day was done, I was able to enjoy some nice tree lined streets, and houses with steppe gardens accompanying tall staircases. It was quite beautiful. But under the freeway, that is where I was seeing reality at the time, thinking about the Kurt Cobain type angst that was borne from this area, or more correctly stated perhaps, the area that articulated so well that broadly experienced angst, and even made the word common vocabulary. What was done was done, and we all take from events and occurrences different things, some more similar than others. What matters is that we can all see and share what we make of something.

Does everything happen for a reason? Who knows. But maybe my boss saying that was for a reason. I mean, wouldn't that be just classic.

Singing loudly to myself on the highway, going somewhere new. Trying to explain to the new guy I am training that I found this to be the number one perk of the job. He ended up passing on the job. Could it have been, for a reason?