Or Else

“Do you need my name for the drink?” I asked the barista behind the counter as she took my iced peach green tea order.

“No, it’s okay. You’re the only one in here right now,” she giggled.

I looked around to see that she was right. Wow, all the noise in my head really had me believing there were 30 people in this coffee shop.

“Oh, right, sorry,” I returned her giggle, trying to laugh away my awkwardness.

I need to get this application done, I told myself.

I need to get this new job, I pressured myself.

I need to —

“Miss, your drink is ready.”

“Thank you,” I said, accepting the drink from her and walking over to a small table for two up against the back window.

I took out my laptop and began my descent to madness.

I need to get this application done, I told myself.

I need to get this new job, I pressured myself.

I need to —

“Excuse me, are you okay?”

I looked up to see a woman looking down at me with concern on her face. She sort of looked familiar but I couldn’t quite place why. She was beautiful, and like I said, concerned.

“Are you okay?” She repeated.

“Yes? Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re crying…”

What? I brought my fingers to my cheeks to realize she was right. I was crying. My cheeks were wet and my vision was blurry. I really must be losing it. The stress is catching up to me.

“I know what that feels like,” she said. She took it upon herself to sit in the empty chair in front of me. She pulled a Kleenex from her purse and handed it to me.

“Thank you,” I said, accepting it. As I began drying my eyes and wiping my nose, I got a better look at the lady in front of me. She was beautiful. She looked smart and collected. She was wearing a black suit and was carrying a beautiful burgundy bag. She was wearing what was obviously expensive jewellery. She was calm. She was radiating an undeniable confidence that in that moment, I was completely devoid of. The obvious contrast between her and I in that moment made me feel even worse about myself.

“I’m sorry, this is really embarrassing…”

“No at all,” she said. “Like I said, I know what it feels like to lose yourself to stress. I’m actually kind of stressed right now.”

“Well, you wear it really well. Wish I could say the same.”

She giggled. “Thank you. The older you get, the more you come to realize that stress is a part of life. Your days without it will be far outnumbered by your days with it. Dealing with it comes with practice, but eventually, you’ll learn to control it instead of it controlling you.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “I hope so. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“That’s a good sign,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

“A good sign?” I laughed. “I’m tearing up in a coffee shop, no longer able to able to even control my own emotions, crying against my will while being pitied by a stranger. Look at me go.”

She seemed to ignore my self deprecation and instead, motioned to my laptop and asked me what I was working on.

”A job application. This will be my 30th application in 5 months,” I told her.

“You’re persistent! That’s a critical quality in someone who’s going to get everything they want,” she assured me.

She took it upon herself to reach for my laptop and began looking at my application as I tried to calm myself down.

“Or it’s just a sign that I refuse to admit I’m not good enough for a job like this.”

“Or not,” she mumbled, still intently focused on my job application.

“I don’t know,” I began, shaking my head. “Maybe I’m just…”

“Maybe you’re just exactly where you’re meant to be,” she interrupted, finally looking up at me. “The only thing wrong with this application is your lack of confidence in yourself. I’m reading this and your credentials speak for themselves and you’re clearly qualified for the position but it almost feels like you’re begging me to hire you. Don’t do that. Demand they hire you.”

Well, that was honest. And probably true.

“How?”

“You may be doubting yourself right now, but on some level, you know you’re qualified for this job otherwise you wouldn’t be putting yourself through the inevitable rejection if you weren’t. I can see that right now you’re in a vulnerable place, so setting yourself up for further disappointment isn’t something you’d do willingly. You know that you can do this. Yes, other people can probably do it too but you need to convince them that not only can you can do this job, but you can do it better than anybody else who will apply. You need to convince them that hiring someone else would not only be a mistake, but a shortsighted lapse in judgement that would inevitably affect this company’s growth.”

“Look, I appreciate this more than I can explain… But you don’t even know me. For all you know, I’m really not qualified to do this,” I said.

“Want to know something?” she whispered. I nodded. “It truly doesn’t matter whether or not you can do this job. You’ll learn. Nepotism gets plenty of kids jobs that they’re not even remotely qualified for. I’ve seen young teens inherit companies whose names they can’t even spell. So don’t worry about that. Do you feel like you deserve this?”

I nodded. “Yes, I think I do. I’ll work hard. I won’t take it for granted. I need this job, or else…” I paused.

“Or else what?”

I just stared at her for a moment, ashamed. I think she could tell I was too embarrassed to admit what I was thinking, but I could also tell she really wanted me to say it out loud. So I built up the confidence and finally told her my fear.

“Or else I fear I’ll settle for something less than what will make me happy because I simply can’t take any more rejection. I’ll live the classic 9 to 5 life my family always told me I’d live. I’ll lock my dreams in a closet and never open it. I’ll resent everyone who got what they always wanted. I’ll tell my kids to chase their dreams for as long as they can because I don’t want them to turn out like I did. I won’t become the adult I dreamed I would be. I won’t become someone my childhood self would be proud of. And I’ll be so crippled by shame and sadness and self loathing, that by the time I begin to enjoy life for the little things, it’ll be too late.”

We both sat in silence for a moment before she widened her eyes and began nodding.

“Jesus!” She began laughing. “What a lovely image!”

I have to say, her laugh was really infectious. So much so, that I began laughing myself. As moments passed, the both of us began to laugh louder and louder until finally, the staff began to look at us funny. By the time our laughing died down and we had both caught our breaths, it occurred to me that I hadn’t laughed like that in weeks, maybe even months.

“Wow,” she said, her laughing finally dissipating. “See, you have nothing to worry about!”

“What!?” I said, giggling again. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re applying for the role of a content writer for a massive marketing company. With an imagination like that, you’re obviously the best candidate they have. Plus, you’ve got that brooding cynical edge to you that really gets readers going. You’ll be just fine,” she smiled.

I smiled again. “Who are you?” I finally asked.

She caught me off guard when she completely ignored my question, but instead asked me an altogether different one.

“Have you ever watched Hunger Games: Catching Fire? The second one?”

“Uhm, yes… Why?”

“It may have been an adaptation of a dystopian novel, but that arena was pure genius and a perfect metaphor for life. Life is an arena. Life is a clock. You have no idea what’s going to happen to you in the next hour, or the hour after that. But no matter what, you keep on playing. You keep on fighting. Life may not always have something wonderful planned for you, but the only way to find out what’s next is to keep on fighting and make it to the next hour. Life is going to keep on happening but if you give up on it, the game is over. Whatever game makers you believe in have a plan for you. There’s going to be lots of beauty in it but there’s going to be some pain too. No matter what, you’re not going to get anywhere if you give up on yourself and stop playing the game. Know your worth and know your strengths. Know who you can fight and learn from those you can’t. Time never stops. The clock will never stop ticking. So you’re going to get this job, or else you’ll get another. This opportunity will be the right fit for you, or else another one will. Or else is not a threat. It’s not a trap or a death sentence. It’s a blessing. You’re lucky you have the option of or else. Rejection is simply redirection and nothing that’s meant for you will miss you. The game makers are stubborn that way. So don’t beg anyone to hire you, because you don’t need to. Just click apply and take it from there.”

I stared at who could only be my guardian angel in awe. I felt like I just heard the most transformative sermon of my life. I couldn’t put into words how much I was affected by what she’d just said, but all I did know was that if the game makers really did have a plan for me, I couldn’t help but feel like I was meant to meet this woman today. A woman, who I suddenly felt indebted to, and whose name I still didn’t know.

I shook my head, tears brewing in my eyes. “I… I don’t even know what to say. Thank you… so much.”

She grabbed my hand and smiled. “So just chill out, dude.”

The both of us began laughing together again. I’m not sure if it was because of how inspired I’d become by this woman in the short time that I’d known her, but I really did feel close to this person in a way that I couldn’t quite describe. It was as though she opened my eyes to an entirely new world full of fresh possibilities, and yet she’d also just simply returned me home.

I wiped my eyes and finally spoke.

“I’m sure you could tell when you sat down, but I really needed that. Thank you for saying everything you just said. I’m sure you had many more important things to do today, but I appreciate you taking the time out of your day to talk me back to life. I really did feel like I was two seconds from losing my mind, but you truly just made a huge difference.”

I smiled at her once again and because she was evidently the kind and generous woman she was, she smiled back.

She shrugged. “I lost my mind once. A few hours after that, I got my dream job and my entire life changed. Now I run that company. A month after that, I met the love of my life. Losing my mind was a small price to pay. Wherever it is, it can stay there.”

“How did you know you lost your mind?”

She smiled at me and then her phone buzzed. I was still waiting on her reply when she told me that she lost track of time and needed to be getting back to work. I stood up just as she did and thanked her again for what she had done for me. She gave me a tight hug and just before she pulled away, whispered in my ear, “just you wait.” She winked at me, wished me luck with my application and left.

I sat down, wanting to take full advantage of the momentum and newfound sense of confidence she instilled in me. I spent the next hour tending to my application and implementing all the changes she’d recommended. Finally, I took a deep breath and submit the application.

I was still slightly anxious, but now I was also excited. Either I get this job or else I get a better one, I thought. Just like she said.

A little while later, I packed up my things and prepared to leave but decided to head to the washroom first after realizing how badly I needed to go.

I walked into the washroom and placed my bag on the counter before heading into a stall. After finishing up, I walked over to the sink, washed my hands and looked up into the mirror in front of me.

There she was, my nameless guardian angel, staring right back at me.

I fluffed my hair and straightened out the collar and waist line of my crisp black suit. I picked up my beautiful burgundy bag and walked outside to the parking lot. Just as I was all settled in the car, I got a call.

“Rose Crawford speaking.”

“Ms. Crawford, I’m Genevieve Saunders from Forbes Magazine! I’m just calling today to set up the interview time for your feature in the new 30 under 30 issue for our marketing chapter.”

“Yes! Hello Genevieve! Thank you for calling. Listen, I’m just on the road. Would you be willing to call my assistant? She can help you select the time.”

“No problem at all Ms. Crawford! We look forward to meeting you and having you on the cover.”

“As do I! Thanks Genevieve. Talk soon.”

Living the dream.