Happy is He Who Understands the Meaning of Things

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Lucky is he who understands the meaning of things.
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A story of a bright guy, but pretty ordinary guy trying with moderate success to make his way in this world

Copyright Chilleywilley.

*****

I didn't have much money for college, so I went to our Community College for two years, worked hard, got decent grades, and then transferred to a four year college into the civil engineering school. I struggled that first semester, a C average, but by the next semester Junior year I was pulling solid B average. I graduated in the middle of my class, loved the class work and imagined myself working on huge projects, like the Panama Canals of the 21st Century, which might have been the case for a couple 2 or 3 honors graduates, the reality was that for me, the job market was thin, and I ended up working for the Municipal Water and Wastewater Authority.

Worse yet for my ego, I didn't get hired so much for my civil engineering degree, they were hard up for maintenance supervisors, and impressed that I had the mechanical skills to rebuild an automobile engine, which lots of geezers can do, but I could also read its computer codes, which the old timers generally can't figure out. Everything runs by computer now.

Whatever, it worked out well for me, it's steady, interesting work, pays enough to buy a house and start a family. I'm been on a steep learning curve, they put me in the maintenance group, so I spend my nights reading instruction books and get still more schooling part time to get my Wastewater Operator's Certification.

My wife Karen has an associate's degree in bookkeeping and some accounting courses but never completed the degree program. She has the brains to get a degree, and would have done it, except for what my Irish grandmother would have called, "for want of money" so she went to work instead. After a few exploitive jobs paying $9/hour for 35 hours but demanding 40 hours for the same pay, she got a job with a new car dealer. She's responsible to see that all of the paper work is done to complete a sale, meaning the money, title, registration, inspection, warranty, dealership statistics, etc. She likes it because she interacts with everybody, sales, customers, service, and management. I knew a lot of the people in the parts department where she works, so we had some common friends. At $15/hour she's not getting rich, it mostly goes for daycare.

We aren't planning to start a family for another year or two, so we've beenusing the rhythm method, and using condoms when she was fertile. Whatever! We had an oops, she got pregnant, and being a real company girl, her water broke at work, and she went directly from there to the hospital. Our daughter was born after a rough 20 hour labor. We don't get any paid parental leave, but Red Rabert, the owner of the multi dealerships said while he couldn't hold her job, he'd hire her back when she was ready to return. Dropping to one income meant money was really tight, and while she wanted to stay at home for a year or two, nine months to the day she was back and lucked out by getting her old job back. Still she was happy and a happy wife means a happy family.

I really enjoyed my work too, especially when we got a new General Manager at the Sewerage Authority who started a program of offered bonuses for saving money. For several years, I've banked an additional $10,000-$15,000 in bonus from the Authority, based on suggestions I've made and in most cases implemented. The Authority has several water and wastewater treatment plants, and the money comes from the Authority, and the savings allow us to improve our maintenance department. The wastewater plant has a lot of very complicated equipment, and it requires a steady flow of parts to maintain it. I've met the bonus levels by having local shops copy the parts I need, at a fraction of the cost for factory originals.

The companies that made our pumps and dewatering equipment regard parts and repairs as their chance to really boost profits, and I took advantage of their markup to make me look good. But there is no sunshine without the storms, my immediate boss Howard Mendel is a fool and thinks, correctly if I were to be honest here, that I make him look bad by saving pots of money that he use to spend when he had my job, so he makes my life as miserable as he can. There's something in my makeup, I hate confrontation! So I put up with his shit, and do what I can to avoid him, mostly by staying in the field with people working with the people who do the actual work.

The 8-5 daily routine around town was fine, but I was really looking forward to spending two days in Binghamton NY, training on a new computer diagnostic program for rotating equipment. I'd drive up the night before, spend two nights there and drive home that evening after the school ended. I was spending 8 hours in the car that I wasn't getting paid for, lest you think the Authority didn't get their money's worth, it was still light outside and I was listening to a CD by Lead Belly as I drive past Scranton when a friend in the parts department at the Rabbet dealership called, and after a minimum of small talk, in a quiet voice he said:

"Chris, I overheard someone say your wife was going to dinner with Rabert at 7:PM, the Pinwheel restaurant, and I thought that odd, so I figured to give you a heads up."

The Pinwheel is a nice place, and some distance from our house.

"You're right what the hell would the big Kahuna want with a title clerk? I'll check into it...and Eddie, let me know if anything else like this happens in the future?"

"Sure thing Chris, take care."

An hour later, the wife called to say she had to work till closing, and that Jill was going to baby sit, so I wasn't to call until 10 PM, which sort of confirmed what Eddie said, so I was pretty sure my wife was lying to me. No way I could be there, and it there was an infinitesimal chance it could be legitimate, Eddy could have gotten it wrong and she really had to work until closing, or it could be a business meeting with Rabert. I get along real good with her mother Grace, frankly I like her more than I do my own mom, so I gave her a call:

"Grace, how'd you like a free dinner for two tonight? Sorry about the short notice."

"Love it! You cooking, son-in-law?"

"Nope! The Pinwheel Restaurant but you and whoever you go with, will need to get there between 7:30 and 7:45."

"So where does the free come in?"

"I'll pay for it, no alcohol though, let me know what it costs...Oh, and no need to trouble your daughter about this."

"Really! You're joking! Look, I don't really have..."

"Grace, without me going into all the details, I was being jolly and affable here, but in fact I really need you to do this for me . But it stays between you and me."

"Oh! Well aren't you the mystery man, then. Sworn to silence, free dinner. Will you tell me why some time?"

"Sure, in a month or so, maybe sooner if you don't figure it out tonight."

"Deal! I owe Helen a dinner, and she loves a mystery. I'm calling her right after we hang up."

I called Grace back at 9:00 when I figured she'd be home. She answered on the second ring.

"So Gracie, you see anyone there you knew?"

"Sure did! Surprised me, as you probably could guess, I saw Karen having dinner with Red Rabert. She wasn't doing anything bad, but entirely too attentive to that cocksman as far as I was concerned, so I walked right over to 'em! You should have been there! 'Been proud of me. Karen jumped a mile when she saw me. Red was surprised too. Did you know I dated him? Almost 40 years ago, not for long though, we had sex once, and I found out he wasn't my kind of guy, but we see each other in passing, when we're out and about.

"I sort of ignored Karen, figured to talk past her about things that Red wasn't going to mention, so with a big fake smile on my face.

"Look at You, Red Rabbit! The last time I saw you in almost as nice restaurant as this one, why it was over forty years ago, and you were wining and dining me, trying to get into my pants, which you did, you sly devil!"

"Mom! Really!"

So I fired with both barrels and asked Karen: "Like mother, like daughter? That why you're here tonight?"

She turned beat red and started to say something, but Red jumped in to shut her up and talked some rubbish about business. I cut him off before he really got going.

"Don't bullshit me, Red. You've got three car dealerships and are worth millions and millions, and you're having a one on one business dinner with my daughter the title clerk-bookkeeper?

I turned to Karen,

"Karen, you should know he was a lousy lay in the old days, I doubt he's gotten better since."

"I felt a nudge, Helen had come up behind me and murmured

"You're making a scene!"

I looked around. Well I was! And wasn't that the point, Chris! Anyway, I had said what I had to, ruined their dinner, and finished by remarking:

"You're both adults, you know what you're doing, have a nice dinner."

Helen and I walked back to our table. There wasn't much for smiles and laughter at my daughter's table, I tell you! They skipped dessert and coffee and bailed out. And by the way, I'm not taking your money. I brought her up better than that!"

"You think she's falling for his line?"

"No, but she shouldn't have been there either. Well, of course she told you about it so that's a pretty good sign."

"It would be wouldn't it...except she didn't tell me, she said she had to work late until closing."

"Oh shit, Chris. Well, at least you know it now...how did you know it then, if she didn't tell you?"

I laughed,

"Don't you know your Grandpa's old slogan from the war,' Loose lips sink Shits!"

"It's ships! Loose lips sink ships!"

"I know, but my version is more appropriate in this case."

Later that night, Karen called me, and told me all about her perceived future in Red Rabert's corporate empire.

"Oh, I ran into Mom at the Pinwheel Restaurant, she and Helen were there. Do you know she dated Red when she was single?"

"You said you had to work 'till closing, Your Mom's buying a car?"

"Oh, ah no, Red took me to the Pinwheel to talk about business stuff.

"So what happened? I don't see the Pin Wheel as a business venue for such a discussion, if it was business. Did Red know you were your mother's daughter"

I figured she'd grimace at hearing 'you're your mother's daughter.' I wish I could see her face.

"Chris, It was a business dinner, what else would it be? I don't think he knew who my mother was, well I mean, how would he? We have different first and last names."

"So about you telling me you were working to closing? Why didn't you tell me the truth?"

"At the time I told you, it was the truth. Mona, my boss asked me if I could work until closing because someone called out sick, so I called the sitter, and said yes. Then I got a email from Mr. Rabert saying Mary would be in at 7: to take my place, but he wanted to talk to me over dinner. What was I suppose to do? I didn't much like it, but I had agreed to work late, so I didn't have a good excuse not to."

"I have to admire the man, good technique on his part, you already set up babysitting, so you really couldn't have said no if you wanted to, he boxed you in."

"What do you mean? I didn't want to go to dinner with him. "

"If he asks you out to dinner, and as you suspect, it might not be improper, you could beg off, claim any sort of excuse, babysitting or whatever. So you were legitimately asked to work til closing by your boss, you said yes, called a sitter, it's overtime, good money and nothing out of the ordinary. So when Mary shows up, and you're invited to go to dinner, how can you say no without telling him you think he's trying to fuck you?"

"Jesus Christ, Chris, I'm sure he didn't think anything of the kind!"

"Well ask your mom what she thinks. You said she knows him from way back when."

Bit of hubris on her part, thinking she can fly close to the candle and not get burned. If it's seduction, hopefully I broke the momentum. There something grotesque about him fucking the mother and almost 40 years later fucking the daughter, I hoped Karen saw that.

Now Rabert has a reputation of chasing women, he certainly has enough money to buy all the women he wanted, but according to my buddy who works there, he's really cheap, has the second nickel he ever made...spent the first nickel to buy a piggy bank to put the second nickel in. Anything he wants he likes to get it for free. I wasn't too keen on Karen working there in the first place, but I figured what the hell, she's one of at least 100 women working for Rabert. And:

A)I don't think she'd cheat, but if she did,

B)I don't think she'd want to fuck somebody her father's age.

Well at the moment there wasn't much to do. No point in getting into a shouting match, a bit of smoke but no fire.

Career wise, I've been talking with people from other plants and started a business on the side, making and selling copy parts for the wastewater industry, and I really wanted to go to a convention in Philly to make some contacts.

My asshole boss just laughed at me when I asked if the Sewer Authority would send me to the Wastewater Convention in nearby Philadelphia. He wouldn't even give me the time off to go, with me paying my own way, so I took some vacation time, and went totally on my own. When I told Karen,

"What the hell, Chris, why I don't you go over his head to Allen Senior," (the Plant Manager). "After all the money you've saved him, why would he refuse you?

"Karen, I'm way down the totem pole here. I mean even my boss doesn't get to go to these things."

"Sure, but this one's cheap, no airfare, no hotel, you can commute to it."

"Well, yes but I'm mostly going for my business, not the Authority's business. I am staying in a hotel, you want to join me...?

While it's a scant two hours away with no traffic, it can stretch to nearly three hours at rush hour.

"We can stay at one of the convention hotels, or anywhere you'd like. Lots of stuff you could do, Philadelphia is a nice change from here."

"That'd be nice. If I were at my old job, it'd be no problem getting away for a few days, but not now. If there's the slightest chance Rabert will have to pay someone overtime to fill in...forget it, he'd never cut anyone a break."

Since I would be alone at the convention, I saw no reason to pay over $250 a night for luxury, and got a room at a very budget motel, for $55 a night. The sort of place that when telling somebody about it, you end your comments with:

"...but the rooms were really clean!" because given the overall look of the place, you were genuinely surprised that they were. I left Sunday afternoon for the opening of the conference, and began networking, introducing myself, asking what equipment they had at their plant, what was consuming their maintenance budget and such like. It was fun, I learned all kinds of useful things, and what with supper and entertainment suites in the Hotel, I got back to my motel a bit tipsy at 10 PM, called the wife and we chatted for a bit. I was in bed at 10:30, with a 7AM wake up call.

Monday was a repeat of Sunday, only I ran into Allen Senior, our Plant manager

"Chris, I really glad to see you here. Considering the money you're saving the Authority, Rodger (my asshole boss) was smart in sending you."

"Rodger was all in favor of me going, he let me take three vacation days so I could attend on my own dime."

"What?"

"Sure! We normally have to give a lot of notice before we can take vacation days, Howard waved the notice."

Allen looked confused'

"Wait a minute...your own dime? We're not paying you to be here?"

"Howard wasn't willing to go that far, turned it down cold, but this is important to me and the Authority, so I'm using vacation and some of the bonus money you gave me."

Allen frowned with suppressed anger.

"When you get back, submit an expense account including travel and admission costs directly to me. All this is Authority business, and we are paying your way...you're showing excellent initiative and It's to be encouraged."

It's nice to be appreciated.

I stumbled back to the motel at 10:00, and Karen and I had a bedtime conversation, including the praise I got from Allen, until I nearly dozed off on the poor woman, and we said our 'I love you's', and hung up at 11.

Tuesday, I had a problem, I had made a pitch to Gus Rogala, an important guy in the Metropolitan Plant, and decided I needed more time with him to cement the relationship, so I offered to take him and his wife out to dinner. We separated and sometime later met by chance on the convention floor, and now he thought we were best buddies and talked my arm off. Important though he might be, I now found him insufferable. I dreaded spending two or three hours with him, worse yet, I was afraid I would be so irritated at him I probably say something that would piss him off. Shit!

The other problem was that business- wise, I realized I was at the point of diminishing returns. There was a lot of interest in what I was proposing, but I was getting ahead of myself, I needed to jump into my new business with brochures, business cards, internet website and all of that stuff to exploit the openings I had identified. In sales speak, I had too many projects in the big end of the funnel, and not enough resources to work them through to the small end. I decided to bail out on the convention and sleep in my own bed.

I stopped by Swirling Eddie's, the restaurant on the Delaware River I had promised to take Gus to, and talked to one of the waiters, telling him Gus and his wife would be eating there that night, and signed a blank credit card receipt, with his promise to mail the receipt to me. It would cost me, but less than if I ate there as well. I tracked Gus down on the convention floor, made my excuses and handed him the restaurant's business card, impressing on him that I was on the hook whether he went there or not, so for god's sake go. He was happy, what's not to like about a free dinner for two. I seem to be buying a lot of people free diners lately. Oh well, I went back to work.

I had just gotten out of the shower when Wifey called me at 7 PM, to say she was bushed, and wanted to talk before she did the bedtime routine of bath, snack, and story for little Karen. She planned to have a glass of wine, and turn in as soon as she was sure Karen Jr. was down for the night. That would be about 9 PM. She was calling early, so as not to be woken up later. I understood, but thought that a surprise visit would go over well.

I packed up my stuff, walked five blocks to have supper at a West Indian restaurant, where for $8.50, I had hot jerked chicken, spicy rice and peas, plantains, and greens. Yum. I walked back to my car and headed on home, stopping for a good cup of coffee on the way. I got there about 10:15 to see a Cadillac Escalade blocking my driveway, so I parked on the street. Who the hell backs into a driveway? What the hell was this! None of Karen's friends could back up a baby stroller without running over their foot.

Being a big secret agent man, I walked 20 feet off of the driveway and looked in the front window of the house, and saw my wife, fully clothed, sitting on the sofa with a guy a lot older than us. From his dyed red hair, I assumed he was Red Rabert. His hand was on her shoulder, she had her hand on her own knee. Well it didn't look good, but at least they were fully dressed, with both feet on the floor.

Later on I was thinking I should have barged in and confronted them, but... I don't know why, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. Instead I was on a rip!

Fuck him and the horse he road in on! I slipped in the side door of the garage, and got an awl from my work bench, a pack of matches from the tin box where my propane torch is stored, and lastly a cigarette from the pack Wifey hides by the trash can. I quit some years ago, but she's clung desperately to her habit, smoking wherever she could, and chewing nicotine gum where she couldn't smoke, like home, work and in the car. I quietly went back out and looked in on them again. Still clothed, but Geezer's hand had slid across the back of her neck, and he was sitting right against her. At least her hand had not moved. Nevertheless, things were going in the wrong direction.