Something Old

January 0898


Dearest Mary Angel,

I humbly apologize for not writing to you in such a long time. My last letter was the night of my birthday and I had allowed myself to get horribly drunk. I hadn't been like that since the year before, the excuse for which being (if excuse it could be called) the death of a friend from work. I rarely drink as it is, which is a good thing, and I was foolish enough to allow myself to go so far, but that's neither here nor there. My last babbling letter was a cry for help. And you can't help me.

I had been so miserable, and it took losing my job to see it clearly. Eight days after my birthday Colin fired me. It was completely without warning and I was too stunned to even ask why. All he said was that my performance was "too little too late," and that it was out of his hands. He went on to say that if I wanted I could continue to work in the kitchen as a cook until I found work elsewhere, but he never gave me a clear answer as to why I was being fired. I told him I would think about it and give him a call. He asked for my keys and I left.

I had another set of keys at the house and for a month and a half I contemplated going to the restaurant some night when everyone was gone, disabling the alarm system, and wreaking havoc on their food inventory and stealing money from the office. But I never did, and I thank God for it-- yes, I am human. I too have terrible thoughts. Instead, I applied for unemployment and made a half-hearted attempt at finding work (meaning, I didn't look at all). I figured after ten years at that place I deserved a vacation. So I took six weeks off and slept almost continuously. I was so emotionally exhausted.

I actually decided several months prior to being fired that I when I left that hell hole I would never work in another restaurant again unless I owned it, and so, when I looked, I looked outside the food-service industry.

In early November, I went to both television stations here in Dothan and applied for whatever might be available. Channel 18 never called for an interview but Channel 4 interviewed me on the spot and I was hired the next day! I am now what is called a 'Master Control Operator,' which means little in regards to pay-scale but the job is so incredibly easy that circus bears could do it. I literally get paid to watch television and push a few buttons.

And get this: the most amazing thing happened the day after I was hired! Spinnaker's Restaurant, the establishment to which I had devoted ten years of my life, without any warning, closed three hours early on a Saturday evening and informed the staff that it was closing its doors in Dothan forever. I received a call that very evening from a kitchen worker I am friends with, and while he cried and cried, he told me everything. The home office, I later learned, closed six other units that same week and had recently closed two prior to the Dothan closing.

Initially, I was so elated to hear that the company for which I spent ten years slaving had been forced to fire almost five-hundred employees and over thirty managers to stay afloat. But as I began to think more on it, I began to feel sorry for all the people who had been let go four weeks before Christmas. They had all, like myself, given a significant amount of time every week to a company that, in the end, couldn't have cared less about them.

So here I am: It's 1998, and I am somewhat happier, but the loneliness I feel grows stronger every day. I want a family, and I'll probably have to hurt someone I care a great deal about to get on with my life, and find someone who will love me.

But that's all I'll say about that for now.

With great love and longing,

Goodnight and sleep well,


Eric

Present Day:

There are some twenty letters between the first and this one. I was very unhappy with my job, and unhappy with where I was in my life. I looked everything through a prism of regret. I viewed every lost love as a last hope for happiness, but you were always chief among those lost loves. I say 'loves' but there were only two; you and one other.

Anyway. I've been at the station for twelve years now. I've gone from Master Control, to Audio, Graphics, Tapes, Servers, to Creative Services and Cameras, Commercials and Editing to where I am now in Sales, building advertising for the internet. For the first time in my life I actually have an office that's all mine. The pay still stinks, but I'm finally in a position to negotiate for a decent increase. And from all I've heard the GM is concerned about whether I'm happy. And truth is, I am. I wish I made more; I wish I made what someone in a larger market would make doing the same work. I wouldn't be driving a '91 Corolla with 232 thousand miles on it if I were.

The contrast between then and now is night and day. I was a miserable hateful wreck back then, mostly because of how raped of goodness I felt at having to be the kind of manager they expected me to be. A starving dog generally receives more compassion that I did. But today... today I'm treated quite well (accept in the pay department), and I'm respected (accept in the pay department). And that alone goes a long way toward easing Eric back into the mainstream.

In a few months I'll be free to court. And I intend to be courtly. I will be the kind of man who enjoys good company and treats his dates with respect. And maybe... just maybe, the Lord will bless ME with someone who will make all my letters to you moot. And yes, when I find her I will tell her about my letters to you. I will let her read them. And I will hope she sees in my letters to you the promise of someone who will love her with equal and greater fervor. She will know what she can expect from me in response to the love she gives in return.

And there's nothing wrong with that. Whoever she is, wherever she is, if I can't share these letters with her, how can I open my heart to her? These letters-- all twelve years of them --ARE my heart. The fullest most honest expression of my heart.

And yes, twelve years later, I am still on the cusp of hurting someone I care deeply about, but who has made it quite clear she doesn't wish to marry. I can't... no... I won't wait any longer.

And I have work in the morning. Someday this week I will have to find time to tell you of my lunch date last Thursday.

Until then,

Take care, and may God bless you and all you hold dear,


Eric