A few weeks ago I swallowed whatever pride I had left and walked into the local workforce development office in search of answers to obtaining unemployment compensation.
After a 20 minute wait to be seen, I noticed a five-foot tall cardboard cutout mentioned just how important a jobseeker’s first impression is to future employers.
Never one to care too much about having stubble on my face, or the freshest shoes, or clothing or accessories that immediately promoted a brand when I was working, and prior to that in school, I decided to ask some friends their original impression of me and how it changed or differed once they got to know me.
Realizing that most men my age wouldn’t ask —and definitely not share—such things with other guys, I kept my query to 15 women, and received nine responses. Their answers were as much of an eye-opener as my trip to Workforce Plus.
Words alone are incapable of describing me, or any person. However, the experiment was a healthy one for me because the constructive and loving observations were things I had either not previously noted or chose to dismiss.
If nothing else asking an honest assessment of your friends—not your family or significant other, but your friends—is a good way to see just how far you have come over the years. Try it, and if everyone is being candid, the responses should provide some self-realization.
No one wanted to go out on a limb and call me weird, but it was nearly universal that I was not the average guy. One friend said it best when she saw me in a science class in college and immediately thought “‘Lord, this boy needs help.’ He’s smart, doesn’t dress normal and country.”
Other words used were dork, nerd, goofy and usually those were followed looking uncomfortable in my own skin. Something else that was instantly recognizable was that I was always telling jokes, or was quite the smartdonkey, but had a decent heart once all the visual and evident demerits were removed.
Yes my concept of humor, in the eyes of my friends, was quite unique. However, as the years wore on most realized the highbrow humor with a tinge of snobbishness was as much a part of me as my glasses.
“You are an awesome person. I am thankful that I know you and have a friendship with you,” said one amiga who has known me since I was a hefty 16-year old in Rockledge, Florida.
Underneath it all was intensity for doing the right thing and not taking the path of least resistance. Though it was something I knew Whitney was aware of, I had no clue that others recognized that I do have a serious side to me.
“Now, I see that you are a little less immature and still goofy with a quirky sense of humor,” said one friend who noted I am still so young my breath smells like similac. “You have matured into a young man with determination and strong morals. I truly admire that.”
In truth, there is something I admire in each of the friends who received my initial question. As haughty as it sounds, if a man or woman was incapable of teaching me something, of contributing to the world around them or a warm person then I would not waste my time talking to them either personally or professionally.
Perhaps my belief in what constitutes a friend is as highfalutin as some of my jokes, but when I see one, it does not take long to recognize it.
Laughs and liveliness,
-Wb
