Man Overboard!!!

Sitting on the “porch” of our local bar last night we met a local man in his late 40’s walking the world’s tiniest Chihuahua. To me it wasn’t the dog that was odd but the man.

If ever there was an archetype of a nerd this guy was it. He had badly fitting, mismatched clothing that hung on his beanstalk frame. His glasses magnified his oddly shaped eyes and his hair was slightly greasy and completely unkempt. This was a walking billboard of geek-iness.

While the girls “ooh and ahhed” over the tiny rat-dog, I started talking to him. “You grow up here? What schools did you go to? “What do you do?“ That final question is what elaborated his entire life to me.

“I am a dishwasher.” he said without a hint of disgrace. In his late 40’s, his career path culminates in slamming up and down, the door of a dish machine. He also easily volunteered that he “lived above Shannon’s,“ a breakfast restaurant on Broadway. In Pawtucket, Broadway is a thoroughfare that is tired and worn…and so are it’s people.

I inferred this guy’s life, growing up, as always being shoved down to the lowest rung on the social ladder. His self esteem must’ve been crippled time and again to the point where it was not “going to try anymore.” And I’m sure his lack of social skills, money and perhaps a small dose of neuroticism kept him from ever attaining anything comfortable.

This guy was something of the world’s joke. A person that automatically invites derision without consciously knowing why or being able to figure out how to stop it. He seemed a harmless and a bewildered victim.

My old career in social work crept up again. It knee jerks “on” no matter whether I want it to or not.


“Have you ever wanted to try something else? Something with better hours, conditions or more money?” I asked.


He was squirrelly and evasive in his answer. “Oh, I like what I do, mostly” and quickly turned from me to make his tiny Chihuahua do a trick for one of the guys there.


How dare I make him stare straight at himself!


His little escape trick reminded me of all those I have worked with before in that old career. One of the lessons I learned back then is something called the “economy of a neurosis.”


If you’ve ever wondered why people seem to keep repeating the same mistakes, never bother changing their lives, it’s because even though their current actions keep hatching new misery, they are also producing something positive off of that same behavior. That something positive is either known or unknown to them.


Their plans and routes, to that particular “positive“, isn’t that efficient.


So, I sat back in the Adirondack chair and watched the dog do circus tricks for everyone there. Perhaps I should’ve joined the Coast Guard all those years ago. That way, I could satisfy my habitual nature to pull people up who are about to sink under.