A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, I was a night club manager of a prestigious nightclub.
During the course of that career pathway there were many moments when we would be down to the wire of hosting an event and trying to setup for the evening’s festivities when all that stood between us and success was grunt labor.
Tables needed to be taken down, posters hung, furniture moved, floor décor repositioned, basically a excruciating amount of moving and lifting that could only be summed up as a moving company on steroids.
The other managers on premise barked orders around to their perspective subordinates and watched as they scrambled and often failed to achieve simple acts of labor and time.
I took the less traveled road
I took off my suit jacket, tie, cufflinks, and all other unnecessary attire like a Persian warrior and told my team that we were going to attack these tasks like a wrecking ball.
Every time it came down to those final fleeting moments that would separate victory from defeat, I would step up to the plate with my team and make shit happen.
Many times we can find ourselves in situations in life where we might be forced to get our hands dirty.
It doesn’t matter if it’s “not your job” or if it would be easier to get the neighborhood kid to do it, part of owning yourself and being an adult is doing hard work that no one else wants to do.
From helping a friend move a massive piano into their studio apartment to moving a bunch of 70s era printers to your car for a donation to good will, these situations come up regularly in our lives, especially in regards to things of great importance to us.
It doesn’t matter if you’re a man or woman, everyone should be willing to go the extra mile for something that matters.
The question is, do you balk and recite orders like the managers of yore? Or do you step up and make shit happen when everyone else is busy complaining about breaking their nails or some other bullshit excuse.
Complain to me about how you pulled your hamstring moving your friends couch and I might just then offer you an icepack, bitch to me about how you can’t get sweaty before you go out on a Friday night and I might just laugh in your face.
Get dirty
Gabriel
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