writing

The Parable of the 2x4s

Steve was a super likable guy who recently got out of the Navy, so naturally, had a ton of excellent drinking stories involving far-off ports of call and exotic locales in the south Pacific. While he wasn’t super skilled when it came to the trades, Steve could handle a saw and a t-square, so he worked as a kind of floater—going back and forth from area to area where there was need for roughing in.

Chicago & the Sandwich Deliveryman Hypothesis

I lived in Chicago for 14 years, and during that time, before going into tech, worked as a grocery bagger, a cashier, a caddy, a lifeguard, an elevator operator, a landscaper, a knife salesman, an adult literacy advocate, a portrait framer, a shirt steamer, a forklift driver, and an usher at Soldier Field. Eleven of those years were spent working in the restaurant business—as a line cook, dishwasher, busboy, waiter, barback, bartender, and shithouse sommelier. I learned how to size people up based on their accents, cuff links, shoes, conversation topics, and the kind and quality of bullshit coming out of their mouths. The time I spent in Chicago, working these weird jobs makes me (I think) a crackerjack spotter of a whole range of put-ons, bullshit, ass-puffery, and weasel wording.