A few years ago, my stepson pulled up to my house with a flat tire on a Friday night. He was 20 miles from home and didn’t have a spare tire.
I unsuccessfully searched online to find a tire place that was open. Then I said, “Let’s throw your tire in my trunk and take a ride up to 441 to see if any shops are still open.”
441 was a commercial strip that had “mom and pop” car dealers, auto repair, window tinting, ethnic markets and other independent shops. It formed a border between the suburban part of town and the”rough” part. We drove down 441 and spied a garage that had a few mechanics sitting on buckets drinking beer after work. They looked at the tire, said we needed a patch and pointed to a shop a few door down.
We went to the second shop, where the offshoot mechanics were drinking beer, eating fast food and hanging out. It was 10PM. On a Friday night. They were closed. Still, one of the guys waved us over, asked what we needed and said he could patch it for $20.
While he patched the tire, we talked to other mechanics. They offered us beer and food, which we declined. A few minutes later, our tire as rolled out, I paid the guy $20 in cash and tipped him an extra $10 for hooking us up.
At the time, I was working as a middle manager for a large software company. For the past 25 years, I had a white collar career in technical sales and management jobs.
I progressed rapidly and fairly steadily in my career. But I never felt like I fit in with the corporate culture:
- The veiled (and not so veiled) racism and sexism.
- The “holier than thou” attitude from people who were born on 3rd base.
- The talk of stock purchases, luxury automobiles, McMansions, and private schools.
I was able to pass in white collar corporate America, but I never belonged.
When we were on 441 with the mechanics, I felt like I was home.
I was calling this incident yesterday morning when rewriting my online dating profile. I was thinking, I’m a blue-collar guy who had a white-collar career and is enjoying a no-collar early retirement.
I spent my first decade from 16-25 working in service and labor jobs. I worked my way into sales because I desperately needed more income to provide for my family.
It’s beautiful today, that those 25 years of working in a white collar world where I was a foreigner have provided me with the resources to not need to work anymore.
Often, I think I would have been just as successful and quite happy being a plumber or electrician. I know I would have enjoyed the company of my customers and coworkers more.
Perhaps, if I ever return to work, I’ll find some trade that satisfies me financially and spiritually.
I know this – if I ever returned to the white collar world, my attitude and behavior will be far different than it used to be.