Blue Bottle Waffles.

And thoughts about my career and life in SF

BergerinSF
Jul 24, 2017 · 2 min read

This is about to be so San Francisco right now.

I’m sitting in a Blue Bottle on a Thursday at 8:15 am. The line is out the door. The surrounding neighborhood is moderately frightening, it’s SOMA, there’s trash everywhere and the smell of urine.

I’m waiting to meet up with a recruiter thinking about my last few days.

Monday: I meet with my manager and tell him I’m disappointed I couldn’t move into the other department. This is at my start-up that has a questionable reputation. The start-up everyone tells me I should leave. I tried to stay by switching into what might be the worst role: recruiting. This is because I hate the bro culture surrounding the sales department so much and I think I’m actually quite good at building relationships. My manager freaks out and says, “well, let’s start thinking about your exit strategy then.”

Tuesday: My manager takes me out to lunch, at a Mediterranean version of Chipotle. I’ve never been alone with him for longer than 40 minutes. Way too much small talk. He starts the conversation on my career by feigning interest in my MA, the one I don’t use. He ends the conversation by telling me that I’m 27, need to stay put now, and, to put it in a way that I understand, my quitting is similar to bailing out of a marathon on mile 20.

Tuesday night: Sales dinner in the Financial District. The VP spouts on and on about investing early, paying yourself first, and sticking out the job that you hate, the job we all have. He stares at me while he says this. Colleagues around the table say things like, “I am motivated by money only” and “if we crush quota…” I remain silent. I walk home and cry to my sister on the phone. As I cry I also pant because of the hills. A man approaches me and tells me he really, really loves my hair. I say thank you and continue to walk, this time a little faster. Failing to pay attention, I end up in the tenderloin and immediately call a Lyft (not Uber!) to get home to the sunset, where I complain to my roommates about how I’m a failure.

Wednesday: The two full cycle classes and bike ride to work are the highlight of my day.

And now here I am, another fitness class taught, fancy oatmeal in hand, and a macchiato consumed. I didn’t know what a macchiato was. Kind of disappointing. Going to order a waffle here shortly, because that’s the best thing here, although we all pretend it’s the coffee.

The recruiter is 20 minutes late.

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