The Glue Guy

Scene: A Jersey Diner, 11am, Saturday morning, St. Paddy’s Day (irrelevant, sort of)

I’m hanging out with Roommate and Roommate’s parents. Roommate works at an awesome startup. He gets his parents up to date on what he’s been doing. Roommate’s parents (who I’m meeting for the first time, post-5K morning run) ask what I do, to which I hem and haw and then reply, “I do operations and logistics for an education nonprofit.” Followed by: “which means a lot of things.” Followed by: “I don’t really know how to describe that.”

Roommate, who used to work in operations says something to the effect of: “We’re glue guys. We hold things together.” Not in the arrogant sense, but in the sense that you’ve got your mitts in so many pots, all over the place and it’s impossible to describe all of these little things that you do and obsess over without going into the level of detail that makes people’s eyes glaze over. I’m somewhat planning to use this description whenever someone asks me what I do. (Note: he was much more inspiring than that, but I had woken up early and forgot to order coffee after the race)

Side note: Small town Jersey (Trees. Community feel. Easy access to the main street.) makes me nostalgic. Riding the St. Paddy’s Day train back into the city with drunken youngin’s does not.

“We’re glue guys. We hold things together.”

Glue

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