Mr. Ireland

It's always the older men who will strike up a conversation. The tired grandmothers, the impatient businessmen, the polite but distant college-students—these rarely move past the syncopated how-are-you-fine-how-are-you. Not that I really expect them too. When I'm ringing up their books and magazines and sandalwood-scented candles, I understand that most Barnes and Noble customers simply want to pay their dues and leave. I would.

But sometimes these older men will stop and talk. I don't mind, even if sometimes I feel as though I'm being flirted with by someone 40 years my senior, because it's nice to be acknowledged as something other than a credit card swiper on occasion. The men are typically loud, forward, and old enough not to care what anyone thinks of them anymore. They have an air of mischievousness and often an embarrassed wife at their shoulder. Sometimes she apologizes and leads her husband away by the elbow.

Yesterday one such gray-haired man handed me his purchases and asked me bluntly, “Do you own a house?” Apparently, his wife was a realtor, and he wanted to give me her card. (I don't think I've encountered an occupation more card-pushy than real estate agents, by the way. I received at least two this summer. Considering most people mistaken me for an eighteen-year-old—if not younger—I find this a bit unwarranted.) I explained that I did not, in fact, own a house, and I doubted if I would in the near future. A friendly interrogation ensued in which he asked about my education, my jobs, and what I was doing working at the Barnes and Noble in Grand Rapids. We had plenty of time to chat because he had purchased two pairs of reading glasses and asked me to remove the hard plastic tags with a pair of scissors, and I was failing miserably. (Did I mention this was on Black Friday and we were holding up the line?) I was afraid I was going to break the glasses.

When I told him I had a degree in English Writing, he chuckled and said, “Well, how's that working out for you?”

That irked me. Even though he went on to tell me what a great school my alma mater is (“big girl school”, I think he called it), even though he assured me that success would come eventually, and even though he called his wife over and said, “Give your card to Britta, here; she's going to be a fabulously rich writer someday,” I did not appreciate the sarcastic comment. I'm sure he didn't mean it unkindly, but I guess I'm a little sensitive to criticism in that department these days. As I struggled with the glasses, the plastic tags, and the scissors, he looked up at me and said, “You're really not succeeding, are you?”

I fumbled for an answer. “Well, that depends on what you mean by succeeding,” I said. I thought he was referring to life in general, to the fact that I have a 4-year degree and am stuck working part-time retail. “I mean, I like to think I'm moving forward—”

“I was talking about the glasses, honey.”

I looked down at my hands. “Oh. Right. Yeah, I guess I'm not.” I handed him the scissors. “Do you want to try?”

He took the glasses and the scissors from me and deftly attacked both tags. “I guess I'm just self-conscious about it,” I tried to explain.

He smiled at me. “The best ones always are.”

I'm not sure what he was trying to tell me with that comment, but I suppose it was meant to be encouraging. After he gave me his wife's card and walked away with his tag-free reading glasses, I was left wondering if I should feel complimented or insulted by the conversation. Was he mocking me or genuinely trying to make me feel better?

I guess the bottom line is that he did drawn some sort of truth out of me. I am self-conscious about how theoretically over-qualified I am for both my jobs. I don't consider myself successful, despite the fact that I am employed, well-educated, and have every provision I need for a happy life. It's rather selfish---and a little bit ridiculous---when I step back and look at it. What more do I want? It's only because all my basic needs are met that I have the time and energy to worry about whether or not I'm moving in the "right direction" or how I can discover my "true calling." I think I need to relax a little. 

I'm not the only recent college grad in a situation of over-qualification. So many of my co-workers at B&N are in the same boat. There just isn't a lot of hiring happening right now, especially for degrees in the liberal arts. And that's ok. I'm not going to be in this situation forever. I will move on from here. So right now, I might as well take a deep breathe and soak in the life experience. Because that's what it's all about, right? At least that is what I'm going to keep telling myself.

For example, I've already learned that I shouldn't make a career out of removing tags from reading glasses.