The Audacity

(Or, Goodbye Ruby Tuesday)

The room felt tense, which was odd given the empty dining room. Ruby Tuesday’s at the Trumbull Mall, circa 2002, was not my highest-stress place, but it was my only source of income, if you didn’t count my near full-board undergrad scholarships.

I can’t remember what the all-hands was officially about, but I know now it was absolutely about money, because the part I remember clearly is that I was quiet and gave a shrug or some other body cue of nonchalance at the new policy. Then one of the general managers, a tall, handsome black man, spoke up.

“Sure, for some, this might be no big deal, but for the rest of us, this isn’t some way to earn some beer money. This is our lives. Our homes.”

I’m honest enough to admit I was offended. The notion that I somehow did not need this job because I was pursuing a degree.

The audacity.

My audacity.

I was too unaware then to realize that my whole “not that big a deal” posture could come across as belittling. More likely, what I took personally was simply a genuine expression of concern that had very little to do with me.

I’m certain this exchange came back to me this week because I started training to pick up a few shifts hosting at a local independent restaurant that I believe in.

And while the hours and responsibilities are a very good match for what I am trying to rebuild at this point, I would also be lying if I said it wasn’t stirring something older in me.

It has taken me a long time to understand that much of what I experience as deeply unfair, or even as an attack, often has far less to do with me than I think.

That irrational sense of rejection, or the assumption that I am an annoyance, may be one of the most destructive forces in my makeup.

I hesitate to call it personality, or even brain wiring, but whatever it is, it has shaped plenty of reactions, situations, and decisions.

The evolved position would be to stop letting it lead. But even now, I’m not always willing to catch it, and even when I do, I can lack the discipline to work it fully out of my system.

I’m not even certain it can be worked out.

Another example of how a mistake makes me feel stupid. These things showed up even though I actually ordered a car cleaning kit. The mistake was on the sender’s end, but I assumed it was mine. It took me DAYS to register for the refund.