(January 2002)
Joining the Army was the easiest part.
Telling the people in my life--my mother, my father, my fiancée and my friends--was the hard part.
After MEPS the recruiter dropped me off at my place. I had just enlisted in the Army. I knew I had to tell everyone, but I had no idea how to do it. I was truly baffled. In 21 days I had to fly to Ft. Benning and start Basic Training, but between then and now, I didn't know what to do.
I figured I would start with the easiest target and see how it went, so I called my best friend Shawn. He and I went to B-School together, and he knows me about as well as anyone on earth.
Shawn "What's up Nick?"
Nick "I enlisted in the Army today."
Shawn "Yeah, right."
Nick "No--I'm dead serious. I ship in three weeks."
Shawn "What? You're joking."
Nick "I'm not joking at all. I am 100% serious."
Shawn "What the fuck? Where are you? What time is it? Meet me at [a Midtown bar] right now."Over Guinness, I tried to answer his main question: Why? I laid it out for him, step by step.
Nick "Look man, I just turned 27. I graduated from a top Ivy League undergrad, worked at the best I-bank in the world, went to the best B-School, and am now a rising star VP at a Fortune 500 company...but, I HATE where my life is. I don't hate myself, I am just unhappy with where I am. I don't like getting up and hating the day ahead of me and I despise that asshole CEO boss of mine."
Shawn "Come on man, everyone hates their job and their boss."
Nick "You don't get it: It's WAY more than that. I don't want this life. I don't have any substantive relationships in my life. I have grown apart from my fiancee, I'm not close to anyone in my family--I hate all of this. Nothing I do makes me excited or happy. This isn't the life that I want."
Shawn "Do you need some pussy or something? Let's go to Vegas right now, totally on my dime. I know this girl from work who has a sister that works out there and lives with like three strippers, we'll get a suite at--"
Nick "No, no--you aren't listening to me. This isn't a phase. I've wanted out for a long time. I've been thinking about this for years. It's always been in the back of my mind, I only just decided to do something about it."
Shawn "But, dude--Why? I don't get it."
Nick "Look--I used to be motivated by money. That's why I went to B-School. I wanted to make lots and lots of money, but not really for the sake of having money. It wasn't about collecting and hoarding for me. I wanted money because I wanted freedom, complete and absolute freedom to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, and money can provide that, right?"
Shawn "Yeah, obviously."
Nick "But unless you inherit money, or are one of those few entrepreneurial geniuses that makes a ton of money at a young age, the quest to accumulate all this cash imprisons you. It eats away at all the benefits that it provides, until ultimately, the money owns you. Look at my parents. They are rich as shit, and aren't free at all. They have multiple house payments, car payments, choking social responsibilities...and after all that work, you become a slave to your possessions and to the life you have created. And for what? What do you have to show for it? A bitchy wife you hate, friends you can't stand, a job that sucks, kids that hate you and a life you dread living."
Shawn "And a shit load of pussy."
Nick "All you fuck are a bunch of Russian sluts looking for a ring. Besides, you don't need money to get pussy. How much pussy did we get in B-School? And besides, you know what I mean."
Shawn "Yeah, I know."
Nick "It boils down to two things: 1. I want to be happy with my life. All this bullshit isn't making me happy. And 2. I want to be proud of myself and I want to prove to myself that I am the man I think I am."
Shawn "I get the unhappy thing; I hate my job too but I like it a lot more than being poor. What I don't get is how the fuck the military going to prove that you're a man?"
Nick "It's not the military that really proves anything. It's the challenge. It's putting myself through an intense trial of fire and coming out forged on the other end. I'm taking on one of the toughest challenges I can find and if I beat it, well then I'm a man."
Shawn "What you do right now is fucking hard Nick. Not just anybody can do it. Why the do you think you get paid so much?"
Nick "Whatever--it's hard in a way, but not in the way I mean. At the end of the day I've made some numbers move. Big fucking deal. Any trained monkey can do what I do."
Shawn "Yeah, I mean, I see your point. But dude--the Army? Can't you go on Outward Bound or something?"
Nick "What are you--kidding me? It's not even close to the same thing."
Shawn "But why the Army? Why is that your test of manhood? Why not just get laid more, like every other guy?"
I decided to tell Shawn about Pa-paw, my grandfather. If there is anyone on earth who I ever felt close to, in that intimate way reserved only for family, it was my mother's father, Pa-paw.
He was a WWII vet who was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross as a Marine Captain fighting the Japanese in the Pacific. His platoon was ambushed and got pinned down by a Japanese machine gun nest. He carried four wounded men, one by one, out of heavy fire and then stormed the machine gun nest by himself, taking it out and saving what was left of his platoon.
He never told anyone about it. I only know the story from my Aunt Tilly because she was there the day one of the men in Pa-paw's platoon came by their house a few years after the war with his wife and two kids. He thanked Pa-paw for saving his life and recounted the entire graphic tale to the family. Aunt Tilly said that when the man gave his infant son to Pa-paw to hold, and told him his name--the same name as Pa-paw--that it was the only time she ever saw Pa-paw cry.
I used to beg Pa-paw to tell me stories, but he never would. He died when I was about 12. Before his death I was young and would ask him wholly inappropriate things. One time I wasked him how many people he killed in the war. He got serious, which was very unusual for Pa-paw when dealing with me. He picked me up and put me on his knee, and said:
"Nick, those were different times when different things were expected. My country needed me, so I answered the call. I'm not proud of what happened, but I am proud that I served. Very little else in life is as important as being there when your family and your country need you. That is what being a man is about."
When I was finished with the story, Shawn paused to digest it.
Shawn "That's deep man, no question, but Nick: Is this a 9/11 thing or is it about you? I mean, I didn't know Pa-Paw, but it seems to me that he served because had to; because he knew that his country needed his leadership. And I'm not saying that you wouldn't be a great asset to the military...but Nick: Why are YOU serving? Is it really because your country needs you to, or because of something else?"
That was like getting a Pedro Martinez curveball when you're expecting a Little League fastball.
We both were living in New York on 9/11. I saw the second plane hit Tower Two from the office building I worked in. I watched the towers go down. I remember seeing people jump out of the windows because they had no other way out. Shawn and I both lost friends that day.
But until that moment, 9/11 hadn't seriously crossed my mind as a reason I was serving. I know that may sound unrealistic, but it's true.
There is a reason for this though. I was something of a minor terrorism expert, having been a political science major in college and having done my Senior honors thesis on Clinton's poor counter-terrorism policy, I knew long before 9/11 the threats that existed and that we were woefully unprepared for a serious attack. It saddened me deeply when it did happen, but it didn't surprise me either. I knew my country needed me long before that day.
It took me a beer or two, but I finally answered Shawn's question:
Nick "I think it's both. Yes, someone has face our enemies, because there is no question that this fight is for our very way of life, and I want to preserve that, but that's not the only reason I'm doing this. This is about wanting to be me, wanting to be happy, wanting to be excited to get up in the morning. If I was happy in my current life would I still want to go? I don't know man. I don't know what I would do if I was happy right now, and it really doesn't matter. I'm not happy. I've wanted to do this for a long time and whatever the reason, right or wrong, my country needs me and can use me, and I'm going."
Shawn "There's no way I can talk you out of it?"
Nick "I almost did this after high school, but my dad talked me out of it. I almost did this after college, but the girl I was dating then talked me out of it. There is no way I'm being talked out of it a third time. I'm going. I've already signed the papers.""
Shawn "Alright man...you know I'm behind you, and I wish you the best of luck. I just hope you find what you're looking for."
Nick "Huh...no shit...me too."
Slightly buzzed, I walked the several blocks to my house. I knew my fiancee would be home, and I knew I had to tell her next. I had been dreading this moment, not because of her reaction or anything she could do to me, but because I knew she would be devastated. I finally had to confront the thing I had ignored in this decision: the affect it would have on the other people in my life. Enlisting may have been brave, but not telling anyone before I went and did it probably wasn't.
There was a time I loved her, but that time has long since passed. I know it and I think she does also, but she is so wrapped up in being the fiancee of a semi-prominent New York businessman/socialite that she's forgotten why we even got together in the first place. What used to be packed lunches on a blanket in Central park has become dinner with a similarly unhappy couple at Tavern on the Green. What used to be romantic nights alone laughing at South Park and making love on the sofa has become nights spent at Denise Rich's charity events or some stupid new art exhibit. We used to cuddle and listen, and now we primp and gossip. She is not the woman I fell in love with.
On the way to the house, I decided she could keep the ring, the house, the clothes, the car, everything she wanted. If I was getting my freedom, I could at least give her the stuff that had meant so much to her.
It is nearly three years since that day in January, but I remember it as clearly as if it happened last night. I came in the house and she was getting ready for some event we had later that night. She was in her walk-in closet, deciding on what to wear.
Nick "Lauren, I need to talk to you."
Lauren "Honey, do you think these new Jimmy Choo's go best with the grey Chanel or the black Prada? I can't decide."
Nick "Put that down and look at me. We need to talk."
Lauren "OK...what's wrong."
Nick "I enlisted in the Army today. I leave in 21 days."
She knew me well enough to know that the tone in my voice was sincere. Shock is not a powerful enough word to describe the look on her face.
In the back of my mind, I hoped maybe she'd be supportive. I thought that maybe our relationship was about something other than social status and financial resources; maybe she'd understand why I had to do this, understand my motivations, and want to stay friends with me. I dreamed about her maybe even sending me care packages when I'm in Basic.
It was not to be. She was not happy.
I don't want to describe the whole conversation I had with her, but it did not go well. Her emotions started off with shock, turned into confusion, and then became angry. She ended up very, very upset. There was a lot of screaming, mostly on her part, things were broken, and two emotional hours later she left to spend the night with a friend.
I decided to go ahead and get it all done at once, so I called my parents. It was sort of late, about 10pm, but my dad agreed to meet me out for a drink.
I told him what I did. My father and I have never had any sort of relationship that could be described as close. He has never understood me, never really been able to see outside of himself enough to see who I was and spent most of my youth working long hours, and as a result we've never been comfortable with each other. His reaction was predictable. He was fairly unemotional about it, failed to fully grasp any of my reasons or my motives, and almost acted indifferent in a way. I almost got the feeling that he was looking at me and realizing that even though I was something of a "success" as a son, he was a failure as a father.
After that short and uncomfortable discussion, I met up with some friends and got completely obliterated. As drunk as I'd been in years. I wanted to celebrate one thing, and forget another. But all I really ended up doing was getting piss-drunk and throwing up in the bathroom of some stupidly trendy club. They can afford to clean up after me when I'm paying $15 a drink.
I woke up on my friends sofa at around 1pm the next day. I had turned my cell phone off the night before, and when I powered it back up I had 18 new messages. Six of those were from Lauren--she was still fuming. Four from my mother--all of them she was crying and in hysterics. A few were from the friends of mine that Shawn had already told, and a bunch were from my secretary. My company is the type that frowns heavily on absenteeism and unexcused lateness. They also don't appreciate when a key team member decides to get drunk and pass out on a friend's couch instead of showing up for a huge client presentation.
I love the movie Office Space--as does anyone who works in corporate America--and that morning I sort of had a moment like the main character Peter did when he went to the hypnotist. It was amazing. After going through with this and telling everyone who had to know, all my bullshit cares were gone. I felt new and refreshed, as if the petty problems of my life no longer affected me. It was the first time in years I'd woken without an alarm going off. I went out on the balcony--the sky was clear, the sun was out and the world felt fresh and new to me. I know it's a cliché, but for the first time since I could remember, I heard birds chirping. Can you believe that shit? Fucking birds chirping. I never imagined the day would come where I would appreciate such a commonplace sound. There was plenty for me to be sad or worried about, but for the first time in forever, all I could feel was optimism. I was genuinely excited about my future.
I had to tell my company what I did, so decided to do something I'd dreamt about while spending many late nights at the office.
Without even changing out of my clubbing outfit, I took a cab to my office. My company has about 10 floors in a major skyscraper in New York City. You've probably read about my company in the Wall Street Journal, seen pundits talk about our stock on CNBC, seen our CEO interviewed on The Bloomberg Report, and have almost certainly used our products or services in some form or another. Without going into specifics, trust me when I tell you that we are evil. My company, in more ways than you can imagine, embodies everything that is wrong with corporate America, and the CEO is the ringleader.
I charged past the receptionist at the CEO's office and threw open his oak double doors. The CEO was on the phone when I came in, and as he saw me he hung the phone up without saying anything to the person on the other end and immediately started in on me.
CEO "Where the fuck where you today? And what the fuck do you think you are doing charging in here like some sort of king. Let me tell you something, you bastard, because you weren't there our fucking client decided not to..."
All the way to office, I had rehearsed my speech. I planned out every nuance, every point I was going to make, every snide remark and double entendre; it was going to be the best quitting speech of all time. But when he launched into his standard "verbally assault my subordinate because I'm angry about something" approach to management, I stopped listening to what he was saying and lost track of my train of thought as I started thinking about what a horrible person he is, and how much he was individually responsible for my unhappiness and the misery of so many at my company.
This was a man who once ripped a young junior executive for a minor typo in a memo in front of the entire executive committee for twenty minutes, reducing him nearly to tears. He routinely berates and verbally harrangues low level employees for the smallest reasons, taking out his frustrations with the world on the most defenseless, the ones who need their jobs the most.
CEO "...and that goddamn incompetent Williams fucking botched all your questions..."
This is a man who regularly cheats on his wife and openly favors those executives who do the same with him. He spends literally hundreds of thousands of the company's dollars on frivolous bullshit for his wife and mistress while at the same time reducing benefits for lower rung employees.
CEO "...and let me tell you another thing: I don't like your fucking attitude recently. You've been aloof, insubordinate, and just plain pissed me off..."
This is a man who promoted me so fast because I showed a knack for breaking and manipulating the rules, and used those promotions as leverage on me to get me to help cook the books to hide all of his fiscal mismanagement.
CEO "...furthermore, your work has been shitty the last three months, and I'm thinking about fucking demoting you from your VP slot. I guess you're just to young to handle the responsibility..."
This is a man who once fired a secretary because he thought she didn't pay him the proper respect by getting out of a full elevator so he could get on. This is a man who once made his personal secretary come in and work on the day of her son's high school graduation and nearly caused her to miss it so that he could have the new fixtures delivered for his new house.
CEO "...I don't know who the fuck you think you are. I made you here, and I'll break you just as easily..."
All the horror stories you have heard over the past three years about out of control CEO's--he could have been the posterboy for them.
As he came to the conclusion of his angry screed, he made the mistake of walking around his desk to get in front of me, and pointed his finger in my face.
CEO "So what do you have to fucking say for yourself?"
Nick "Get your finger out of my face."
CEO "I'LL POINT AT YOU ALL I WANT! I RUN THIS FUCKING PLACE AND YOU ANSWER TO ME! NOW SIT THE FUCK DOWN AND SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
As he said that, he put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me into the seat behind me.
I played a major sport in college and though I'm not as large as say, a bouncer at Scores [ed note: a famous NYC strip club with NFL linbacker-sized bouncers], I am tall and strong and can be an imposing physical figure when I want to be. He is a weasley 5'10" and has all the muscle of an accountant without a gym membership.
I slowly rose from the chair and as soon as I looked down at him, his entire demeanor immediately and radically changed. Have you ever been in a situation where one person thought they had a clear and obvious upper hand and thus acted without any fear of repercussion, but seen the look on their face when they realize that they've been flipped? That not only are they not in a position of total power, but that they in fact are totally fucked? You know that look, the almost primal look of fear and terror that comes over their face?
Right then, right there, as he rapidly backed up around his desk, he knew that all his bullshit power over the lives and fortunes of his employees could not save him. That his ability to get last minute Broadway tickets, or to fuck the most expensive escorts, or get into the best Hamptons parties, or to buy and sell companies--at that moment, none of it meant anything. I tore off the veneer of invincibility he'd wrapped around himself, and he knew he was absolutely powerless. There is no greater harm you can do to a weak man who has created a powerful position for himself than to pierce that veil and reveal to him what he truly is.
He went from Authoritative Asshole CEO to Petrified Dipshit in about 0.3 seconds. He tried to reach for his phone, presumably to call security, but I took the base and ripped the cord out of the wall. He then kinda moved as if to get around his desk, so I took the entire desk and flipped it over. He was cornered and absolutely terrified.
I slowly approached him, and he tried one last bluster:
CEO "Get away from me. I'll have you arrested!! I'LL SUE!!"
I grabbed him by his lapels and slammed him up against the floor to ceiling window looking over Times Square. His head made a satisfying thud as it bounced off the reinforced plexiglass. The corners of his mouth started to froth he was so afraid.
Nick "I quit. Effective immediately. Bitch."
So much for my grand speech.
When I let go of his suit he collapsed into a frightened heap on the floor. I didn't stay to watch, but I'm pretty sure I saw his eyes welling up with tears.
I realize how immature it was, and that it cost me tens of thousands in severance and stock options, but it was worth every cent. It was the best I'd ever felt in my life.
I calmly walked to my office and started packing my stuff in a box. It seemed like only seconds passed before people started pouring into my office. Wildfire has nothing on the the speed of gossip at my office. By the time I left, my office was nearly in a frenzy. CEO had demanded that the security guards throw me out, but I knew all of them and he didn't, so basically they just stood next to me and watched as I took my time getting my stuff together. I said goodbye to my friends and left without further incident.
When I got home, by that time it was around 5pm, there were movers going in and out of my townhouse and an attorney waiting for me at the front door.
Snake lawyer "Mr. Sadler? I am [Snake Lawyer], I represent Ms. [Lauren], your ex-fiancee. Please do not try to interfere. I have a temporary restraining order allowing--"
Nick "She can have anything she wants."
Snake lawyer "Excuse me?"
Nick "I said she can have anything she wants. I don't care."
Snake lawyer "What do you mean, 'anything she wants?'"
I really hate lawyers.
Nick "If you see it in or on or around this townhouse, she can have it. I'd like to keep my clothes and my golf clubs, but other than that, all of this is hers if she wants to take it. Is that clear enough?"
The snake lawyer immediately got on his cell phone and walked away from me.
Lauren helped me pick out this house, decorated it, moved in with me, and it is nothing to me but a representation of our relationship. What the am I going to do with all this antique furniture and expensive drapery? I'd just sell it anyway and since I don't really need the money that badly, I might as well just let her have it.
Snake lawyer "OK, I've just talked to my client, and she wishes to take everything in the house that is not a personal possession of yours. You are in agreement with this arrangement? I can have my office courier papers to this effect over here immediately."
I just walked away. I don't want to deal with this.
As I was leaving, I called my lawyer, told him the situation, and of course he flipped out. He insisted that he rush over to my place to stop it, but I told him in no uncertain terms to not interfere, and that he could go watch over my boxers and aftershave for $400 an hour if he wants, but I didn't care about any of the other stuff and she could have it if she wanted it.
I got in a cab and went to my grandfathers grave. He wasn't buried in Arlington, instead opting to be buried in his family plot, near New York City. I got to the cemetery, and even though I knew where his grave was, I never actually made it there. Almost as soon as I got there, I felt stupid and I left.
I hope this doesn't sound melodramatic or silly, but even though I'd been there before, I honestly felt like at this point, I didn't have the right to go to his grave. I wanted to go to his grave as a man he can be proud of, and the man I want to become instead of the man I am now. I've taken the first step in the journey, and it is an important one, but it's only one step. I decided to come back when I had finished the journey. I wanted to stand at Pa-paw's grave and know he's proud of me, and I don't know that right now.
By the time I got back it was 10pm and my townhome was almost totally empty. She really did want everything. She even took the light fixtures in the guest bathroom. They are expensive and imported, so I guess it makes sense. All that was left was my clothes, my personal effects, a case of beer and a few condiments in the fridge, and my books. That was it. It looked like looters had come in and taken away my life.
If I was prone to drama, I would point out how this scene is a perfect fucking allegory for the larger events in my life, but I won't. I cracked open a beer and called Shawn.
Nick "Dude, I need to hang out tonight."
Shawn "Cool. Where do you want to meet?"
Nick "Stop by here first, but can you bring some things with you?"
Shawn "Yeah, what'chu need?"
Nick "A 27 inch TV and some lawn chairs."
Shawn "What?"
Nick "Just stop by. You'll understand when you get here."
Posted by Rudius Media at 4:21 PM