Roll with the Changes
With renewed energy I decided I'd spent enough time watching TV, reading dime-store sci-fi and whacking off and now it was time to get out into the world again. Where to start? To be truthful, the dating scene had been a complete disaster. I remembered thinking while I was still married that I "wish I knew then what I know now". I had this idea that I was so much more sophisticated and confident around women. Getting one (or more) to come home with me would be easy. Right. I dated more than a dozen women over the course of six months or so...once each. No matter how smooth I thought I was or laid back or whatever, the night would end quickly. One young lass slammed the door in my face so quickly I almost kissed the doorknob. There was that damn red light on my head again.
So much for that. Instead I bent my energies toward diversifying my interests. I saw an ad in the paper for an internship at a local cable TV station. They wanted people to learn camera work for sporting events and meetings. Perfect. I attended the orientation class and got signed up for the program. I joined Big Brothers as a way to get back in touch with some day-to-day fathering experience. I rode my bike competitively. I resolved to make myself healthy again and show Lani and the kids that I would not give up trying to be a better person.
And then Life came along and set up those stupid orange cones you so hate to see out on the road. "Detour Ahead", said the big sign and oh, shit what a left turn it was.
One Exile to Another
I was at the lab one sunny morning talking to my pal Peggy. I was telling her about all the cool things that were happening in my life. I knew she worried about me and I wanted her to know that the whole killing myself thing was in the past. I was bubbling over with joy at all the possibilities laid out before me. Peggy seemed oddly detached, as if something were bothering her.
"What's the matter, Peg? Aren't you happy for me?"
"Yes of course I'm happy. You seem to be trying to do an awful lot at once, though."
"Yeah, but it feels good to have something to do. For the first time since all this crap started I feel like it's all coming together again. Like it's going back to normal."
Just then the owner, Pete Jaffe, came into the lab. He passed Peggy and me with a quiet "Hello" and went into the manager's office. I puttered around the lab, putting film into the processor and cleaning up. The manager came out and asked me to come into the office.
I'll spare the dialogue, since after all it's always been the same. I'm not fitting in with the new manager, I'm depressing the coworkers, my attitude sucks. Take your pick. Bottom line: Fired again. Some nice severance in the form of three separate checks that will keep me from being immediately broke. But with that my five year, on and off again relationship with Jaffe's Camera came to a screeching halt.
I rode my bike home through the cold, my mind alternating between anger and fear, trying to see the way out of this newest smackdown. I went home and immediately checked the paper for jobs in my field. No dice. Over the next several days I knocked on every door, followed every lead I thought would get me on my feet again but it just wasn't going to work. I had definitely worn out my welcome in SoCal. As I saw it, it was time to go North again and get closer to those kids, be some kind of Dad.
So Long and WTF?
I started checking the out of town papers and found a few promising leads in the SF Bay Area. Over one long weekend I went to visit four different photo labs within a 100-mile radius. I got a really nice job offer from a place in Petaluma, just an hour from where Lani and the kids lived. That would maintain some small separation from her but be close enough that we could exchange the kids in a central place when they visited me.
I got a call from another lab after I had agreed over the phone to take the Petaluma job. This place was in Oakland, much closer to the kids and the pay was better. After talking to Mike, the plant manager, I decided to go with them. They even threw in moving expenses. Sweet!
With so little stuff to my name it didn't take long to pack everything up and get ready to go. The day before I left I was back in my room when there was a knock on the door. Dale, the crazy guy who owned the place, answered and I heard him say: "He's right here. Do you want me to get him?" I heard a soft female voice but couldn't make out the words. The door closed and Dale came back and handed me an envelope.
"Some Asian girl just dropped this off for you."
Asian girl? I don't.....wait. The only Asian girl I knew was the young lady at the stationery store next to the lab. I had gone in there many times to buy paper, envelopes, stamps and little books and such to send the kids. I had spoken with the girl at the counter and we shared stories of our lives but I had never gotten the idea that we were more than platonic friends.
The letter begged to differ. I cannot quote it now, but in reading the two neatly-penned pages I saw that she had grown quite fond of me and was heartbroken that I had not told her I was fired or that I was leaving. I went to the store but they told me she had left for a few days. Man, just how blind could I be? It had been a heartbreaking experience for me to have to call my Little Brother, Terry, and tell him that yet another man in his life was walking out on him. He had said, "Yeah, great, good luck man" and hung up on me.
So my mood was anything but festive as I gunned the motor on my 1970 Ford Maverick and pulled away from the Ventura city limits, bound for points North. How do I disappointeth thee? Let me count the ways....
45: The Oxi-Clean of the Melodramatic Blog!
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