You Should Smile More

by Anastasia Ryan

homo doctus in se semper divitias habet. A learned person always has wealth inside himself.

So I’d done what I would never have done before: I brewed my own coffee at home and brought it with me. To a Starbucks. Like the transient I would eventually become, seeking warmth from the cups of employed

people’s coffee. I sank my head into my hands. “I’m good,” I told her. “How far we’ve fallen,” a familiar voice said. Jane took the seat across from me at the table and put her own travel mug down. “Ladies of leisure brew their own coffee,” she told me.

When you’re young and you imagine your future, you don’t picture a short man wearing gladiator sandals and gripping a whistle forcing you to run around a meeting room to stay employed. Over your lunch break. In order to buy toilet paper and coffee. Why, again, had we all wanted to be adults so badly?

“So you’re driving around with a dime bag of foot disease?” she yelled into the speaker.

She’s not going to do anything too illegal.”

Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt. —Sun Tzu, The Art of War

This was NOT how you made employees happy or kept turnover to a minimum. How about paid vacation days? Or better health insurance? Or maybe an occasional “thanks for your hard work”? Or even letting us eat lunch in peace.

“That maybe they teach dystopian novels in high school to prepare you for working in an office.

Was there any job where security and advancement were decided by performance alone and not other factors, like who was friends with the boss or who was the biggest team player? Or who met at the bar after work for drinks?

“Are you asking me to choose between you and my job? Because both of you eat up my self-esteem and free time, so I’m going to have to go with the one that pays my bills.”

I grabbed my opportunities on my own, instead of being shuffled from one place to another by condescending men in suits?

“I just—” Marcus blew out a breath. “I like you, okay? I was worried. I have anxiety.” He paused again and squared his shoulders. “I would like the opportunity to focus that anxiety on you,” he said, staring at her earnestly.

“We have a lot of dependents now,” I said. “We,” he repeated and caught my eye again with his bright blue ones. “I like that you said we.” “Barf,” a voice said loudly behind me, and I turned to find Geraldine stomping over, trailed by a handful of goats and several ponies.