I’m an Imposter, not a Con-Artist.

31 May

"I am not a crook. I've earned everything I've got."

Lying is silly, so I won’t: girls like me should be high school guidance counselors and watching seasons of MTV’s Daria on the weekends (which are worthy endeavors, are you kidding me, Daria is hilarious). The bosses? Not convinced. So I’ve set myself up the task of doing a kick-ass job despite the facts. I have no interest whatsoever in playing dress up to leech the life flow of paychecks until it stops coming.

Though the paychecks are nice.

I’m an imposter but I’m not a con-artist. I know what a con-artist looks like. He has come into the co-working space with no intention of paying and every intention of schmoozing our members and eating our Salads that are Sexy!*

I could smell a hint of slime at the very first introduction. He was just so goddamn complimentary. A crisp pinstriped dress shirt and pressed gray slacks, a wide smile to complete his thin professional disguise. I gave him a tour and his bemusement was palpable.

“See, I was wondering how you could get this space for free?” he creened.

INTRUDER ALERT #1: If someone immediately asks you how he or she can get stuff for free, he or she is not there to contribute the community part of “co-working”. This is not a profile of a co-working worker.

“Well, you can’t really, since everyone here recognizes the value of being connected to the space, they pay. However, we also have a work-trade option where you can do administration one day a week for free use of the space.”

Usually at this point, the eyes of credible folks sparkle. His shifted down and to the right. “Yeah, yeah, I guess I could do that,” he gritted through his teeth, as he slithered away from the thought of labor.

INTRUDER ALERT #2: Someone who fails to extend a compromise or rejects your efforts to help them should be heeded with caution.

I told him to think about it, he’d benefit a lot from being in the space. I guess he wanted to think about it in person, because he came back every Tuesday, feasting on the member lunches in my face; :chomp: “I just don’t think I can afford :chomp: to join at this time.” THEN GO TO THE CO-WORKING SPACE DOWN THE STREET! I matched smile for persuasive smile, coaxing him to commitment but he wouldn’t. “No, but I am just going to keep coming by if that’s okay.” I am going to kill him. The fourth time I saw him, I was so outdone, I couldn’t speak. Adrian and Nate, with kindness, closed his once-wide welcome for me. Apparently, he had also been using my name as an entrance alibi.

The Reflection: I am not a con-artist. Con-artists don’t give, they only feed of off. But I am an imposter—and that is what we have in common, this guy and I. Showing up in places where we cannot be fully ourselves is our livelihood. Until we overstay our welcome, we show up smiling, hoping to get the best out of the situation.

*every Tuesday, a guest chef comes in and prepares a CSA box of organic greens for our members. We call this sexy. 


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