Here's what our parents don't always tell us about doing the honorable thing when we're young and they're trying to teach us right from wrong, folks: sometimes doing the honorable thing kind of sucks. Today I had to quit the job that was so hard-won, because obviously that's the right thing to do when I'm not going to be in the city for much longer. It's a fact I've been stressing about and losing sleep over for two nights now. The night before my final call to the voter outreach people, I was worrying about having to quit if it didn't work out. The night after, it was a more solid worry. I imagined just about every worst case, including people being mad and people being disappointed and having mistakes I had made during training thrown back at me to prove I had never been invested in the first place, thoughts I knew had no ground but still couldn't shake.
The knowledge that I was going to do this face to face only made my worries worse. Life is a lot easier when you can hang up on someone if they start to be rude or unreasonable, when there's significant physical distance. I craved the easy security of the phone call, but it didn't feel like the right thing to do. I worried that if I called, the manager wouldn't think my offer to come in for the weekend was genuine. Actually coming in felt like the best way to convey my sincerity. Everyone there had been extremely cool to me the whole time I was there, and I wanted to be cool in return.
With that in mind, I hopped my usual train to work at the usual time. To put this into perspective, it takes anywhere between an hour and a half to two hours for me to get to the neighborhood I was working in, depending on how functional the transit is feeling that day. I rode almost the entirety of a line of public transit to have a difficult conversation I didn't want to have. Of course today the transit went like clockwork, and I spent half an hour staring at the water feature in the park across the street and trying not to freak out.
In all that time I had to think, I imagined a version of the summer where the things I had come out to Chicago for fell into place a little more like I hoped. The version of me I imagined had spent enough time running around the city to truly seem like a native. This Alyssa never had to leave ridiculously early for anything, because she had public transit down to a science. I pictured myself in a scenario like the song that introduces Aladdin, one step ahead of everything going on around me. That won't be. I didn't spend too long mourning the image, though. It won't be, but only for now. Staying longer would just be tilting at windmills, and while it's still not my greatest strength I am learning to pick my battles.
Finally the time came that I couldn't avoid going to work any longer. I was a strange mix of nervous and relieved. I still wasn't looking forward to the conversation, but at least I wouldn't have to wait any more. I was glad to find the manager right away. It's happened a couple of times that I've been there before him, and if he hadn't been there I wouldn't have been sure if I should clock in and start working or not if he wasn't. I walked up to him and laid out the quick and honest speech I had worked out in my head. The restaurant business is fast-paced and I didn't want to take any more of his time than I had to, but I also didn't want to leave with no explanation. Everyone was as kind as they had been from day one. They were sorry that it hadn't worked out for me and wished me the best in the future and a safe trip home.
I didn't work a shift today. It wouldn't make sense for them to pay to train me when I'm leaving. All considered I gave about four hours of my life to that job today without getting paid, and traveled all the way into and out of the city for a conversation that took maybe ten minutes. Objectively, that should kind of suck. It doesn't, though. For all that the pains of being a good person may have been under-explained to us as children, it was also true when our parents told us that doing good would feel good, except it's so much more complex than that. It's the feather-light feeling of a clean conscience. It's the sense of righteousness from the fact that in the face of a difficult situation, you did your best to handle yourself in a way that would mitigate harm to others. It's the pride of knowing that you did what everyone should do, but not what everyone would do. I am learning to pick my battles. Doing the honorable thing will always be a battle worth choosing.
The knowledge that I was going to do this face to face only made my worries worse. Life is a lot easier when you can hang up on someone if they start to be rude or unreasonable, when there's significant physical distance. I craved the easy security of the phone call, but it didn't feel like the right thing to do. I worried that if I called, the manager wouldn't think my offer to come in for the weekend was genuine. Actually coming in felt like the best way to convey my sincerity. Everyone there had been extremely cool to me the whole time I was there, and I wanted to be cool in return.
With that in mind, I hopped my usual train to work at the usual time. To put this into perspective, it takes anywhere between an hour and a half to two hours for me to get to the neighborhood I was working in, depending on how functional the transit is feeling that day. I rode almost the entirety of a line of public transit to have a difficult conversation I didn't want to have. Of course today the transit went like clockwork, and I spent half an hour staring at the water feature in the park across the street and trying not to freak out.
In all that time I had to think, I imagined a version of the summer where the things I had come out to Chicago for fell into place a little more like I hoped. The version of me I imagined had spent enough time running around the city to truly seem like a native. This Alyssa never had to leave ridiculously early for anything, because she had public transit down to a science. I pictured myself in a scenario like the song that introduces Aladdin, one step ahead of everything going on around me. That won't be. I didn't spend too long mourning the image, though. It won't be, but only for now. Staying longer would just be tilting at windmills, and while it's still not my greatest strength I am learning to pick my battles.
Finally the time came that I couldn't avoid going to work any longer. I was a strange mix of nervous and relieved. I still wasn't looking forward to the conversation, but at least I wouldn't have to wait any more. I was glad to find the manager right away. It's happened a couple of times that I've been there before him, and if he hadn't been there I wouldn't have been sure if I should clock in and start working or not if he wasn't. I walked up to him and laid out the quick and honest speech I had worked out in my head. The restaurant business is fast-paced and I didn't want to take any more of his time than I had to, but I also didn't want to leave with no explanation. Everyone was as kind as they had been from day one. They were sorry that it hadn't worked out for me and wished me the best in the future and a safe trip home.
I didn't work a shift today. It wouldn't make sense for them to pay to train me when I'm leaving. All considered I gave about four hours of my life to that job today without getting paid, and traveled all the way into and out of the city for a conversation that took maybe ten minutes. Objectively, that should kind of suck. It doesn't, though. For all that the pains of being a good person may have been under-explained to us as children, it was also true when our parents told us that doing good would feel good, except it's so much more complex than that. It's the feather-light feeling of a clean conscience. It's the sense of righteousness from the fact that in the face of a difficult situation, you did your best to handle yourself in a way that would mitigate harm to others. It's the pride of knowing that you did what everyone should do, but not what everyone would do. I am learning to pick my battles. Doing the honorable thing will always be a battle worth choosing.
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