#JustSayin: The Anonymous Adventures of James A. Turnkey (Corporate Sleaze)
<editorsnote> Nerds, meet by buddy James. We started talking in the social space not too long ago, and he asked if he could write for us. I was all, dude! so rad! Whatcha wanna talk about? Dating! He said! But is it cool if I'm anonymous? I was all ... surrrreeeee thing with me! So, now, here's another dude's side of things in this new dating world we are now emerged in. I only have one thing left to say ... HIT JAMES!!! </editorsnote>
#TalkNerdyToMeLover's James A. Turnkey
A few years ago, I entered the corporate world in order to survive. There was debt beginning to compile on top of the fact that I was homeless. That’s right. Two and a half years ago, yours truly was homeless. May not be proud of what I did but I did it to survive. It is actually a very funny story on how I actually got the job. Wasn’t even there to interview but when I was asked to, I figured “why not”. Looking back over the last two and a half years, I can remember really cavernous lows and mountainous highs. Excitement for finding a steady job in a crumbling economy while being able to finally use the skills and I talents I possessed.
When my friends discovered I got a job as a “corporate sellout” they were all amazing. The smart ass punk is a corporate sleaze. I heard all the jokes and smiled along. Now, a few years later, they look at me and realize that in simply two and half years I completely turned myself around. Dropped the addictions, picked up responsibility, and started to head out the door towards a prosperous future; something so many people once thought I was unable to achieve. At that time in my life, with those people in my life, I was a self destructive waste of space. More often than not I heard the word “disappointed” or the phrase “Why are you doing this?!”
When I noticed the words change to “congratulations” and phrases like “I am proud of you” or “That is so great, James!” I realized that this brilliant underachiever was done with the downwards spiral. Even on my climb out of the hole that I dug myself into with tools such as drugs, alcohol, and women, I would still have obstacles to overcome. No longer did I allow obstacles to detour me. They became a challenge, a lesson to be learned. At moments of extreme weakness I would begin to turn back to alcohol or the touch of a woman but nowhere near the excessive amount during the years after college. Somehow, I made it through, I overcame and was victorious.
During one period of grief, while I was at work during a night shift, I sat and stared at the computer screen with a blank word document. Memories of what it was like to write, to create emotions into a character that only existed in my mind, began to stir. To paint a picture of a setting that was being constructed in my head. These were all such powerful memories and deity induced thoughts. After I drank an excessive quantity of alcoholic beverages on my “lunch” break, I began to feel an overwhelming sense of powerlessness. The consideration of becoming a divine being for characters that were derived from my life, gave me a thrill of control. Something I was beginning to lose in my own life. A thought of what I had done, from homeless to corporate sleaze, from nothing to endless possibilities, and a will to achieve. The talent I had, that was buried deep inside, began to crawl out of the mental grave.
I started off simple: title.
Then thought about a good start and it came to me instantly. A young woman named Gloria. She and I were in a relationship towards the end of my homeless days, and in fact, the end of our relationships was the push that started the snowball effect.
So, three hours went by and I realized I had finished the first chapter (Introduction: Act) of a new novel (working title). Something I had not attempted since college (before my spiral decline). It felt great and to be honest, almost felt like a whole new high. Tried working on a second chapter the next day and nothing seemed to flow; I was sober… A few weeks went by and still nothing came from a second chapter. I envisioned a whole novel, encircled around the corporate world and a fictional bank similar to the one I worked in. Sadly, that vision was unclear. Soon after the attempt of the second chapter, my relationship at the time, started to fall apart and so did my health; mental and physical. Alcohol abuse returned and with a vengeance.
A year has almost come full circle and I was inspired to try to write again; this time sober. Since then I have been able to pull information, thoughts, emotions, images, and lessons from my mind easier than ever before. With a sober mind, I can actually remember my once affluent vocabulary and could navigate better in the catacomb of comprehension of information that was locked away under the drunkenness. During the day, I still sit in my cubicle and process accounts. While mandatory overtime is in effect, I have decided to put some time into writing. A few weeks into the overtime, I realized that I get paid 24 dollars an hour to write. Not so bad for a sleaze.