The Best Job Ever

The Best Job Ever: A Macaw Story

Waking up had slowly become a laborious chore in the few short weeks since the layoff. The morning hadn’t been since in more than two weeks by this point, and Trent was beginning to wonder if there would be a point to seeing morning again anytime soon. Coffee had absolutely no appeal when one was unemployed. That initial jolt of purpose to speed one along to the beckoning workday lost its luster when there was no workday.

Sure, professionals had compiled a list of self-motivational catchphrases like “Finding a job, IS a job!” but the reality of looking for a paycheck wasn’t a job; it was a necessary means to an end. It was like eating breakfast a job because the nourishment needed to prepare the mind for the endless job search is part of the process. Or some gimmick-driven drivel to trick the masses into feeling like they were doing something important by waking up.

Trent had no patience for false motivation, and although he did believe in true purpose and passion, finding it while unemployed was like digging for gold in a sewer with a metal detector. Unfortunately, the only gold nuggets you expected to find there were likely to have belonged to some street tough’s botched dental work. Not exactly the kind to cash in and buy a new house, but good for a few laughs at the local pawn shop.

Running his fingers through week-old grease in his hair, accumulated from the lack of a shower or any grooming for that matter, he checked the time—4:47 PM. No wonder. It was past time to eat. Waving away a thicket of flies that had assembled over a bowl of half-eaten soup in the last few days, he was startled by the phone vibrating on the coffee table.

He checked the phone to see who was calling. Sasha? Sasha? Quickly, he tried to pick up the phone and clean up old TV dinners, dump the bowl of soup in the sink altogether, forgetting which side had the garbage disposal in his haste to answer and clean up in one motion.

“Hello?” he managed, dumping the expired soup on the floor and sending the flies in a flurry around his face. Then, getting one caught in his mouth, he choked, sputtered, and cursed before Sasha could answer.

“Trent? Are you alright?” she asked, clearly confused on the other end.

Great, now what. Trying to get his bearings, Trent thought of the only thing he could think of since last seeing her at the office.

“Yes, sorry about that. Are you still free for lunch?” he asked, remembering their lunch date today.

“You mean the lunch we’re supposed to go on two weeks after the day they laid us off? That was last Wednesday. You didn’t call, so I made other plans.”

Curses! Double great. “Wow! It’s been three weeks already? Sorry about that, Sasha. Are you open to rescheduling for today?” he asked.

“No, I’m working today, but I came across this ad in today’s paper. Some guy on the west side is looking for a bird-sitter. Not sure if you’re working yet, but it’s $2500 a day for a week. I just called to let you know about it. Pick up today’s paper if you don’t have it already. I must get back to work. Call me later if you want, but not for lunch. Hope you get the job!”

And Trent sat in stunned silence. That was a heck of a way to let him know he ruined the date. He could almost roleplay how the last week had gone her wondering why he hadn’t called when he’d shown such interest in her for months trying to get her to agree to have dinner and then finally, after they both lost their jobs, agreeing to lunch. Only to sleep through it and have no good reason for it when she called to follow up.

Even in the way she ended the call, it pretty much sounded like “Your loss! Good luck!” and even if she had only been thinking it, she was right.

$2500 was nothing to shake a stick at, though, and the west side of Manhattan was about as hoity-toity as it gets. Looking around the small apartment in midtown, Trent realized he needed to find something to wear to even make it out to the newsstand to retrieve today’s paper. He was going to need to shower too, he was in no shape to be around people of any kind, but then again, he hadn’t seen any in weeks. The film that had settled in his mouth reminded him just how far he’d let himself go since having four interviews fall through at the last minute in three days. All three referrals for top sales firms with several openings failed. They were looking to hire but someone other than him. It was hard not to feel the shot to his tower of confidence and watch as the walls came crumbling down in the blink of an eye.

The lunch with Sasha could have salvaged that, but it was too late now. He was just glad she thought to send him a job opportunity. Now he just had to get himself together so he could be the best version of himself. Bird-sitter? Is that what she said?

He stopped in his tracks. What kind of impression did he need to make to land a bird-sitter? People were drumming on 5-gallon buckets that could do this job; what was so special about it? $2500 a day said he’d been in the wrong industry for far too long, though, by the sound of it. Clearing a pathway of dirty clothes, he made his way to the shower, got cleaned up, and headed out to the newsstand.

Midtown in New York City was a cross between the New York City everyone knows and the New York City everybody who lives there hates. You love living there but hate the traffic. Traffic everywhere else refers to cars, but in NYC, traffic includes foot, rail, air, sea, and cars. Everything is crowded no matter how you travel. Even the pigeons argue over the fastest route to a crumb of bread in the park, only giving way to whoever can clamor the loudest. They were a lot like people in that regard.

Trent slumped into a clean pair of sweats and his best pair of worn slippers and headed out into the cacophony of the evening. The crowd welcomed him with the usual apathy and path re-routing it always did. The busy sidewalk took no notice of a man clothed with a trash bag relieving himself against the wall of an apartment building just in time for a couple with a poodle to pass him by as if the two belonged at the same dinner table. It was all a part of the vibe. The city vibe. A place where a guy could skip a shower for over a week, pass a guy pissing on a wall, and land a job for $2500 a day.

Have to love the city.

Trent didn’t even bother to greet the guy at the newsstand he’d seen every day for the last eight years since moving in. Instead, he just grabbed a paper, paid the $2.50 with a $5.00 bill, and walked away before he could call “Next!”.

Skipping right to the job openings section, he found it.

“Bird-sitter needed at 555 West End ave. $2500 per day. Available by appointment only. Start Saturday, seven days guaranteed, more available after screening. Please call 212-555-5421. Ask for Mr. Carlson”

Thank you, Sasha. Picking his cell phone out of his pocket, he dialed the number.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice said from the other end of the phone.

“Hello, this is Trent Wilcher, and I’m calling about your ad for a bird-sitter. Is Mr. Carlson available?”

“Yes, just one moment, please,” and the voice left. In the brief pause, Trent found himself wondering if that was Mrs. Carlson.

“Hello, this is Mr. Carlson. You’re calling about the ad?”

“Yes, sir, my name is Trent Wilcher, and I wanted to make an appointment for the interview.”

“Yes, yes, Trent. Thank you for calling. Have you ever heard of the Scarlet Macaw?” Mr. Carlson asked.

“No, but they sound exotic, like Toucans or Paradise birds. Are they something like that?”

“Something like that. What do you know about Toucans and Paradise birds?”

“Nothing except the people who own them typically pay around $2500 a day to have them properly watched. Does yours come with instructions?”

And Mr. Carlson laughed. It was a hearty and genuine laugh but left Trent pretty confused for someone paying so much to have a bird watched; you’d think he would expect to have a long list of instructions.

“You pass, Trent. Can you meet me at the house today around say.. 6:00 pm?”

“Sure. Can I have the job?” Trent asked.

“Yes, you can start Saturday. And don’t worry, I’ll provide the instructions. See you at 6:00.”

And that’s when the New Yorker kicked in. Why was this so easy? That was a lot of money to be hired without further question. But $2500 a day was $2500 a day. Trent walked into his apartment. With that kind of money, I can afford to clean up. So Trent spent the afternoon giving an hour to put trash in trash bags and dirty laundry in laundry bags to take to the laundromat before heading out to hail a taxi to 555 West End Ave.

Catching a taxi from anywhere in midtown was pretty straightforward, but actually getting anywhere was not. Finally, Trent found a cab willing to accept the ride easy enough. Still, with twenty minutes to go, the last thing he needed was road construction on the way, diverting traffic around one-way signs that only applied to traffic routes for the three to four blocks they were working on a sewer line.

Deciding against waiting to go through the detour, he stopped the ride at 86th and West End and all but ran to 555 West End Ave.

The entry to 555 West end Avenue was elegant and expansive, and a 24-hour doorman stood just inside the door to greet him. It was evident from the towering windows, soaring ceiling heights, and robust architecture viewed upon entry that this was an architectural landmark featured in the Riverside-West Historic district.

“Mister Wilcher?” The doorman greeted him knowingly as if there were no question that he could be anyone else visiting the property dressed in business casual attire for his interview. He was suddenly glad he had thought at the last minute to iron the shirt.

“Yes.”

“Right this way, Mr. Carlson is waiting for you.” And he turned and escorted Trent through the large foyer and into a recreation area with an inlaid gold pool table, some chairs, and a large screen TV to wait.

He offered a drink, but Trent was too absorbed in the scenery to acknowledge the offer. It was only a few minutes before Mr. Carlson strode into the room, a tall man of Egyptian descent that had a manner that seemed to command the room.

“Mr. Wilcher, I presume?” he began in a formal greeting that tasted like an appraisal.

“Yes, Mr. Carlson, I take it?”

“Indeed. So, Mr. Wilcher, you’ve already passed the interview, and the fact that you were here on time shows you can be trusted to show up to work. Did you have any questions before I give you the tour of the place?”

“Well, yes, sir. On the way over, I was wondering how you decided to hire me so fast?”

“A great question, Mr. Wilcher. Two reasons. First, allow me to explain why I posted the job. You see, I don’t own the bird you’ll be bird-sitting. Second, we’re a rescue operation sending this Scarlet Macaw back home to Nicaragua, which is why the job only pays for seven days. That’s when it will take for the freight forwarder to ship this little guy back home. Private and public donors completely fund our operation, and I just happened to run across this one for sale locally. We do our best as an international organization to return as many as we can to their home.”

“Wow, Mr. Carlson, that’s a noble enterprise. I don’t have any experience with Macaws of any kind like I said, so why me?”

“Because unlike many who apply to look to purchase him, you are not in the market, and it doesn’t sound like you know anyone who is, which is more than I can say for most of the applicants I’ve heard from in the last week. Besides, an old colleague of yours told you’re an animal lover and might be empathetic toward our cause. Ah, there she is now.:

And as they headed up a short flight of stairs, Sasha came to greet them with paperwork for shipment to be signed in a week.

“Good morning, Trent. Mr. Carlson, these are the papers for shipping our friend back to Nicaragua via air freight with the temperature and moisture conditions required for transport. “

Thank you. Trent tried to mouth the words while Mr. Carlson was listening to her report. Unfortunately, she didn’t appear to notice.

“So, Mr. Wilcher, since you’re already acquainted with my assistant, I’ll go over the details. The Scarlet Macaw’s natural habitat is the rainforest, so we need to keep the temperature at 87 – 92 degrees and the humidifier set to a steady 80 percent. It’ll be uncomfortable in the aviary, which is temperature and moisture controlled. Still, you’re welcome to keep the temperature in the bedroom, kitchen, and dining room at whatever temperature you like. Drop the temperature below 87 degrees, and you’re fired. Understand?”

Trent nodded.

“Also, our friend eats a mixture of seed, pellets, and fruit, the list of each is next to the refrigerator. When you eat, he eats and gives snacks in between. There’s a box of bird toys next to the cage, so when he’s done shredding one, Sasha will show you how to replace one the first day, but you’re on your own after that. He sharpens his beak and feet on those toys and relies on them for entertainment. I usually put one of the bird puzzles together for him to figure out how to get to the fruit. It works like a Rube-Goldberg Machine for birds. He loves those, and I make them for all our guests when they arrive. They’re smarter than you think, so try to keep him entertained in any creative ways you can think of while you’re here. Sasha will be assisting you with errands, groceries, etc. I’d prefer you don’t leave him alone in the house while you’re watching him. I’m going to be at the office looking for others like him on the market for a rescue, so I’ll leave him to your capable hands.”

And as Mr. Carlson finished his guided tour of the apartment, he left Sasha and him alone to bird-sit two days early.

“So, about that lunch,” Sasha began, “ We get nine of them. Happy?” and she smirked. She would smirk as if she had somehow planned this all along.

“Thank You. How’d you know I needed the job?” Trent asked.

“ I didn’t, but I could hear your remorse through the phone, so I figured I’d give you a shot at the same job I took the minute I heard of it, and then if I was wrong about the remorse, find other ways to show you… consequences.”

Consequences didn’t sound like something he wanted. Even in the way she mouthed the word, it sounded nefarious and foreboding.

Lunch that day was vegetables as Sasha was vegetarian, but the vegetable curry was delicious and in good company. He was catching up on the last few weeks. Unfortunately, Trent left out the part about wasting away and even foregoing a shower for over a week. From the tilt of Sasha’s head, she could tell he wasn’t giving all the details, but that was his prerogative. She wasn’t one to pry into information not volunteered, and neither was he. They had the mutual respect they had established from working together at the previous company.

“You’re about as talkative as a mime for a guy that spent months trying to get me to eat with him. Why shy now?” She offered, once the pleasantries had all but expended.

“You know Sasha, you could win a medal for mind reading, but the emotion isn’t shy; it’s caution. We still work together, and I want to get to know you, but only so far as you want me to get to know you. One can get in a lot of trouble asking the wrong questions, and I don’t like consequences.”

“You’re right; you don’t like consequences, not that you’d know why,” she smiled playfully at that, and then when on, “But if I’m the only one asking questions, it’s going to be a short date. We have a bird to feed, and you’re low on seed and pellets. So I stayed here with Mr. Carlson in case you had trouble finding the place.” She said matter-of-factly.

That was the thing he was starting to learn about Sasha; she could appear to have interest one moment, and then as quickly as it appeared, it could be gone as if it never was. Her poker face was record-breaking. She left him wondering if it hadn’t just been his imagination after all.

“Duly noted. So why’d you say yes?” Trent asked, trying to cut through the familiar questions and get right to the heart of the matter.

“Because I was curious. You asked for a date, and I didn’t think you were ready for it, but I can eat with anyone, and you treat people well. I like that about you. So here I am. My turn. What took you so long to ask?”

“ Fraternization. Nobody wants unwelcome attention hanging in their resumé.”

“Duly noted. Well, I need to run to the store. His feeding time is in about thirty minutes. See you soon.” And she smiled and got ready to go.

The exchange felt more like a game of chess than a conversation, but he took three things from it that was important. First, they had both considered the consequences, and they both respected and liked things about one another. A distant third was that Sasha had somehow managed to squirrel away nine days for them to figure out one on one if there was any potential there. Of course, it would have been impossible to plan such a thing, but he couldn’t help but feel the purpose behind that call. She was brilliant, and he saw it.

While she was gone, he found the list of instructions by the refrigerator exactly as Mr. Carlson had said they would be. Feeding times were 6 am, 12 pm, and 6 pm, with snacks at 10 am and 3 pm. In addition, there were instructions to play on the audio system that was hardwired into each room of sounds that the bird would make that meant to call the vet and Mr. Carlson immediately. Each one sounded similar to the last, but the distress in those calls was evident. Who knew birds could get sick just like people do?

According to the instructions, there were express instructions to keep the cage clean daily, a task that would be monitored closely by Sasha. When Sasha returned with the seed, fruit, and pellets for the bird, that was when he thought of the question he hadn’t asked her yet.

“What’s his name?”

“We haven’t given him one yet. We received him yesterday, and I called in the ad yesterday. We were hoping you’d ask that and name him yourself.”

“Borneo. I’ll name him Borneo then.”

“Borneo? That’s interesting. Any particular reason why?”

“Sure, I’ve never been there. It seems fitting for a type of bird I’ve never seen until now. Right, Borneo?” Trent said to the bird as they approached the giant cage in the great room, temperature-controlled and humid like summer in Maryland, where his parents were.

“Borneo it is,” Sasha said without a second thought as she began filling two five-gallon buckets with seed, pellet, and fruit blend from the pet store. The package said that the mixture was for Conures, Caiques, African Greys, Senegals, Amazons, Eclectus, Small Cockatoos, and other medium to large parrots that prefer this pellet size.

Somehow the varied species of unheard of birds seemed less enigmatic than the Scarlet Macaw. A cockatoo appeared like you give it to seed and make sure you clean poop, whereas the Macaw had to be entertained and mentally stimulated. The food package said you could barely fit a slip of paper between the difference in diet, but it just seemed like there would be a more considerable difference.

Lunch for the next two days was unpaid, but Sasha was helping him become acquainted with the new routine. Trent took to the new schedule like a fish to water having something to do during the day besides count the hours the phone wasn’t ringing. Sasha had already familiarized herself with the type of routine that optimized efficiency and time management, so having her as an assistant was already a massive help to Mr. Carlson, freeing him to focus on saving more Macaws as he found them.

The whole crew worked like a well-oiled machine. Trent had acquainted himself with the process and his duties by the time Saturday came around, so the next seven days should go without a hitch.

While he was placing more toys for Borneo on Tuesday, he suddenly stopped as Sasha headed to retrieve more toys from the storage room.

“ When the freight forwarder comes, how long until the next job?”

“How long until the next Macaw, you mean? Your guess is as good as mine. We can only arrange for them to be shipped as we find them. That’s why it’s $2500 per day. You’ll need to find a way to budget for a while until we find the next one.” Sasha replied.

It all made sense now. There was no telling when the next bird would be found, and Mr. Carlson needed to take the time to research along with Sasha when she could manage the time between errands. Borneo couldn’t be left alone in the house, and neither would the next bird, so they needed someone they could trust to be alone with the Macaw. Mr. Carlson chose him out of the blue not just because Sasha referred him but because Sasha trusted him and had told Mr. Carlson as much.

This job wasn’t about credentials, it was about who could be trusted, and in the case of their former employment, they were the two most trustworthy people in the company. It was in that realization that Trent found the honor of having been referred by Sasha. She mentioned that few people could be trusted in their former job setting, and their brief conversations were always liberating. He appreciated the referral, and Borneo would be on his way back home in four more days.

Mr. Carlson returned early on Friday with a simple question.

“It seems you and Sasha have been getting along well. I trust she’s already filled you in on the details. How’d you like a permanent position Mr. Wilcher?”

“I’d love it. When can I start?”

“How about six days ago, and instead of $2500 per day, I’m going to increase you to salary pay, which Is $3200 a day if you don’t mind. Sometimes we have to buy these birds off the market to get them back home and file paperwork for selling them. I can fill you in on all of that later, but for the time being. Welcome to the team.”

“… and the best job offer I’ve ever heard.” He replied.