The Desk
I had to appeal to the seller’s faith that I would show up when I messaged her on Facebook Marketplace about the desk. Would she be willing to hold it for two days? Long enough for me to get a truck and some help getting it back to the office. Most sellers won’t wait. She said she had had a lot of interest. I believed her.
I sent her a link to my website and told her we were a small company. The desk was for someone who had recently lost her job after many years of service with the state. Her unemployment had run out. I didn’t haggle. It was probably the longest text she ever received on Messenger. She marked it pending.
Two days later, I arrived as promised. I gave her $110. She gave me the desk and one can of leftover matte black paint. We were both happy, happier than the person who was coming to work for me at an hourly rate substantially less than she is worth by any reasonable standard, less than anything close to what she needs to cover a $900 monthly COBRA invoice, a mortgage, and life’s basic necessities.
But reasonable and fair aren’t really factors when Florida wraps up your twelve payments of $275 in unemployment. Reasonable gets redefined really fast when someone somewhere is at least willing to recognize that you are pretty damn good at a lot of things they could use help on, things like QuickBooks and 1099s and contracts, things like RFPs and taxes, things that will fit nicely into the deep drawers of this desk and the hours you wait for something better, something a lot more reasonable.
I value the new desk for the same reason I value my new team member. Both are mid-century modern, smart and great additions that add form and function to my evolving enterprise. I will remind my new collaborator that this desk cannot be bought on Staples or Amazon. Neither can the integrity she walked out the door with after her presence collided with one executive’s ambition. It happens. It happens every day because power tends to ruin some people faster than you can cover something beautiful in matte black and stick it in the garage and then sell it on Facebook for $110.
Like my newest team member, the desk has a story and a history, a story that begins fresh this week. Fortunately for the desk’s new occupant, we are all about stories here, a place where it is always OK to disagree with the boss. In fact, she encourages it.
Postscript: Like many older workers, especially women, the reasons this person was given for being let go have more cracks in them than this desk ever will, reasons that cannot be covered or hidden with paint.