Under The Wire

     “I just can’t do it.”  I looked at the front of the menu and was amazed.

     “Can you believe the prices?” V asked.  She was as surprised as I was.  “I mean the food sounds good in theory but...no.  Just.  No.”

     “No shit,” I responded secretly happy because I was a bit broke.

     The comfort food we used to eat as children was being hijacked.  It was now repackaged as gourmet and served to us at ridiculous prices.  The Mac and cheese was $12.  The grilled cheese was $11.  The peanut butter and jelly was $13.  It was as though adding the description ‘artisanal’ added $10 to the price.

     We just looked at each other.  I was afraid to flip the menu over.  Were they going to charge for using the air?  Was there a $10 waiting fee?

     “Look,” she said genuinely excited.  “They have happy hour specials!”

     We both looked at our phones. 5:48.  Happy hour ended in 12 minutes.  It was going to be nice to get in just under the wire.

     “What are you thinking?” I asked.  “10 wings and spinach pastries with sauce for $10?”

     “Sold.”  She pointed at me and smiled.  “At least I don’t have to make sure my mortgage is paid first.”

     “Don’t get me wrong I understand that the rent needs to get paid at this place but god damn.”

     We had both decent jobs with decent salaries but we had both just gone through long stretches of unemployment where $20 spent at a bar or restaurant was not a possibility.

     There was a residual insecurity from the last transition.  People don’t want to believe it but changing careers after 45 was harder than most imagine.  It’s one thing when you are striking out to find your passion after years of building to it but it’s a completely different animal when the floor is ripped out from under you.  You spend your time trying to be confident and determined in your new job while struggling to find out what didn’t work at your old one.

     Food helps.  Comfort food shared with friends helps more.  The recent steak excursion was great but there was the sinking feeling that this new gig might not quite have a stability I could rely on to make that a regular occurrence.  This was insecurity.

     “Oh look,” she said doing the happy dance in her seat, “you can get a pint for $2.50.”

     “We might be able to get out of here for less than $20 between the two of us.  I like it.”  We quickly placed our order and bumped fists.

     The artisanal burger alone was $20 so this was like hitting the lottery.

     “You know,” she started, “they wouldn’t be able to charge these prices if people didn’t pay them.”

     “True.  Very true.  Marketing has taught people that it’s a privilege to live beyond their means.  The bad  things for us and the good thing for business is that most people act against their best interests.”

     “Nice.  Did you ever think we would have to start again at this point?” V asked as the bartender set up the plates and utensils.

     “Well, we all knew my time was limited but no, I was hoping I would be able to hold on for just a little bit longer.  My target age is fifty.  I’m hoping that I can either make this latest gig work by then OR I can find my finishing gig by then.”

     “I know."  She said staring off into the distance.  "Wouldn’t it be wonderful to love the job and know you’ll ride it out until the end?
     "Hey, wait a minute?  Didn’t we do wings the last time?” She asked as the wings arrived.

     “Yes, but last time we did wine and wings.  Beer is better.”

     “It’s good to see you’re better.  I was worried about you for a little while.”

     “Hell, I’m still worried.  I can’t let myself get comfortable.  Comfort equals misery.  Enough about me.  How are you?  How’s the new gig treating you?”

     “It’s good.  The thing about my job is that they appreciate my experience.  You’re looking at the new regional manager for New England.”

     We clinked glasses.

     “Congratulations.  Do you think this is the job you’ll ride out until the end?”

     She rolled her eyes while she tipped her glass.

     “Who knows?  I like talking to clients.  Ironically I have a larger territory and I speak to fewer people.  But, hey, the mortgage is paid.”

     “Maybe next year, if these jobs work out, we can eat burgers and not have to worry about getting in under the wire.”