Since it’s labor day, it seems a good time to reflect on how much work goes into being a friend. Over the years, I've had a lot of jobs that have introduced me to some of the most bizarre people I have ever met. Some have tried to take me down their path of crazy, while others who might have been a blip on the radar of my life have remained some of my greatest friends.
Back at the start of last century’s last decade, I started a job answering phone calls when the world of customer service was still firmly planted in the United States. The queue was backed up for hours and there we all sat with our headsets and phone consoles being listened to and monitored by those who acted better than the rest of us behind the glassed in wall. The motley crew of employees on the floor were tethered to their phones answering call after call from people seeking credits for wrong numbers (does this even happen any more?) to long distance conversations made to Asia with denials that anyone in the Asian family knew a soul in China to make such a long call.
In this cesspool of craziness, the pied piper of children came into my life. Together, we have survived earthquakes, lay offs, love, marriages, divorce, death and a million other acts of nature the world has thrown at us. I can still remember the looks and attitude all the others gave us over the course of our employment. From the woman with the perfect marriage and family to the lesbian sharing her world with the love of her life, to the girl so in love with her fiancé who was going to have the perfect life - all of them befriended us but beneath their smiles, the look of pity and sadness directed at us was all too evident.
Deep down, I knew the piper was forever. There were no red flags with anything she asked of me, and as the year played out, the two of us were the only ones who could smell the stench of hypocrisy that surrounded us. When the call center folded and the slow truth about our co-workers leaked out, we still remained true to ourselves. It was our turn to shake our heads. From that woman with the perfect marriage who sent herself flowers to the office and signed them from her husband to that lesbian whose partner beat her while she covered up the bruises to that very perky blond who moonlighted on the sex toy phone lines to make money for her wedding that ended in divorce, all of them kept their blinders on as our jobs disintegrated.
Over the years, there have been many jobs and an even greater number of people I often thought would last forever in my life. The occupations threw us together and gave us a common bond - but it’s so much more than just a job that keeps true friends together. It’s what they see reflected back - what they don’t ask of each other that is willingly given that matters and makes all the labor they share worth it.
Each year, new faces came into my life as the piper and I grew older. There was yet another lesbian, one who asked too much of me and was unable to face the truth about the alcohol that consumed every dinner party and night out. There was the redhead who expected me to be her husband in every way but the bedroom and fought for the spotlight in a friendship that had no stage. They were more labor intensive than the birth of the child I watched come into the world. I walked away from the jobs that brought the drama into my life and left the friendships in the rear view mirror, but not without high speed road kill to stain my tires and dirty my car. And as this labor day continues, I spend it with a blue-eyed friend who asks nothing more than to share the new world I have yet again created for myself.
I have chased the sun until it warms my very soul and it gives me hope for all that’s ahead in life. And through it all, the piper’s song still plays and we skip down the path of true friendship. Many have followed us, but when the music stops, they have fallen back and disappeared. Yet, the piper and I continue because the music that plays is in our souls.
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