The End of the Beginning

With an IQ of 145 and 800 on my SATs, I’ve never understood why Dad insists I’m “just a child in a grown man’s body.” Take action. Be a man. Do something with your life…blah blah blah.

Amidst the vast entropy of the universe, what’s the point in working, or meeting the rigorous societal requirements to have a girlfriend, when I can simply stay at home in Antioch, thinking deep thoughts? (and playing the occasional game of League of Legends).

At the present moment, I sit at the table in my family’s darkened kitchen, illuminated by a forest of glowing candles on my birthday cake. Mom and Dad are singing their traditional song, Mom nudging Dad every time his voice cracks. I lean in, exhale at the flames, and make a wish while watching a plume of smoke rise–I wish I can remain this happy forever.

Dad clears his throat. “Scott, you are turning thirty-four today.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “AND, your mother and I aren’t going to be around forever..,.”

“Where are you going?” I ask, thinking that is a perfectly valid question.

Mom jumps in, her voice in the aoft monotone she uses when they have rehearsed their lines. “Things haven’t been the same since the kindergarten fire."

I feel my face growing warm. “You told me to get a job!” I snap. “The job description said a volunteer firefighting position.”

“Antioch’s kindergarten burned down while you finished your computer game.”

“Volunteer, by definition, means optional.”

Mom sighs. “The neighbors don't talk to us anymore. This year, your father and I, as a team, have come to the decision…”

My parents exchange a look. Dad leans in and whispers to Mom, "Don't explain,” then turns to me. “We have rented you an apartment in Lake Vernon, Wisconsin, 2 hours north from here. You need to learn to be independent!" He smiles with obvious delight.

Mom glowers at him.

Dad launches into a speech of how I’m going to be a big fish in a small pond in Wisconsin and adds how there are a lot of cute girls up there.

The moral I learn from this episode of my life is that a high-IQ person should not take a volunteer firefighting position. Nothing good happens when a person like me takes a job.

Lake Vernon, Wisconsin

Dad was right about one thing: Lake Vernon offers a certain geographical advantage over the Chicago area. In a town of two thousand, I suddenly feel statistically significant.

Also, I’ve only been here for a week, and people already treat me like I’m special. With Wisconsin's abysmally slow internet, I’ve been forced to take a hiatus from my League of Legends Platinum my and conduct research into IRL activities in town. Mostly, I cycle to the Walmart and search its endless aisles for new meaningful purpose.

Having whittled down the money I received from dad “to get started” to a final $35 , today, I've spent three hours scanning the aisles of Walmart doing a cost-benefit analysis. I’ve settled upon a $14 fishing starter kit and a $20 telescope. A complete 24-hour entertainment loop for $34. A masterpiece of budgeting.

To confirm my decision, I approach the Customer Service Desk. A young blonde whose name tag reads ‘Beth’, straightens up behind the counter and audibly sighs.

“Welcome to Walmart,” she mumbles, eyes fixed on something miles behind me. “How can I help you?”

“Pragmatically,” I begin, leaning against the laminate counter, “Can one acquire a high-speed broadband connection up here in Lake Vernon with $35?”

“What do you mean, up here?” Then, a flicker of recognition crosses her face. “Oh! You’re that new guy everyone’s been talking about.”

I feel a surge of satisfaction. “They are talking about me?!” I ask with mock humility.

“Uh-huh,” She leans on her elbows, looking me over with curiosity. “So, why did you move to Lake Vernon, anyway?”

“My dad suggested I depart Chicago to find fresh fields to plow,” I opt to use my dad’s rural metaphor. “You know, spread my genius to new territory.”

“So…you’re a farmer?”

“More of a firefighter, actually,” I correct.

“Wow! That’s kinda hot.” Her eyes widen into the biggest blue spheres I’ve ever seen. “I can’t help you with the internet, but I can help you check out.”

I follow her to a register, my chest puffed out finally receiving the VIP treatment at this Walmart. She scans the fluorescent yellow children's fishing set and plastic telescope.

I slide my three tens and a five across the counter, already mentally pocketing the one-dollar bill. With my IQ, I’m always a step ahead.

In the corner of my eye, I notice a small crowd of shoppers has paused to watch us. Myself, the interloper, having an interaction with their local beauty, Beth. I feel the gravitas of the moment in my very soul.

Beth’s register emits a sharp beep.

“That will be $35.70,” she says, her blue eyes gazing at me. “So, I need another 70 cents.”

“70 cents?” I repeat.

“Sales tax.”.

I shrug, showing empty palms. “I didn’t account for this.”

Beth raises her voice toward the gathered crowd. “This guy from Chicago doesn’t have enough money to check out! Can anyone help with 70 cents?!”

A burly-looking man in a bass fishing cap shouts. “Chicago, huh? How about get a job, bud?”

A few shoppers chuckle.

I turn back to Beth with big city dignity. “I’ll put back this fishing set, AND… I can't believe I'm saying this... Do you know where I can get a job?”

“We don’t have any fires in Lake Vernon. What else can you do?”

What else can I do? I’ve spent ten years playing League of Legends in my parents' basement. Not a job skill and Dad says to never mention it to anyone.

“I’m good with my hands.”

“Let me ask over at Menards, I work there weekends”.

Menards

I am standing at the threshold of the double sliding doors, my bright blue Menards vest marking myself as a beacon of competence. It’s only my third day of work, but I’ve firmly established myself and am thrilled I'm about to change people’s lives for the better again today.

"Welcome to Menards!" I boom with big box store hospitality at every customer that enters our hallowed doors.

Dad was right again. I am, without a doubt, the highest-functioning intellect in this town. People just sense it. They approach me with their home dilemmas, and I provide solutions that leave them visibly stunned. It makes sense that people turn to me with the biggest problems in their lives.

An elderly woman approaches. “Are the flowers in bloom?”

“Yes, ma'am. In the gardening section.”

A middle-aged man burst through the doors in a hurry. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“I'm so happy you asked!”

I’ve literally absorbed the employee training manual. Treat every customer like a guest in your own home.

I pull a paper map of the store out of my pocket, unfold it, and trace the route from the entrance to the restroom with my finger. “Come with me, I’ll take you there,” I explain to him that Menard's bathrooms are free for customer use, then show him where the soap and extra toilet paper are. I rush back to my position at the front of the store just in time to greet the next guest.

Another woman asks, “Are you still doing the 11% rebate this week?”

The customer is always right.

“Of course!” I said, then launched into a five-minute explanation of rebate mathematics, including tax implications and the Eulerian cycle of the Menards reward program.

Another customer asks, “Can I leave my coat at the front?” and I hold it for her for an hour and a half. The store manager is thrilled when I tell him.

The customers have begun to tease me with math problems - they show me their receipts as they leave the store, and I scan them with my finger, do the mental arithmetic, including the 5% sales tax, and shout out the answer. One guy shouted out, “Impressive. Now fix inflation!” But, good news, yesterday, I found a receipt that was off by 1 cent on a floating point rounding error, a weakness of the Intel 32-bit processor, and I spent 45 minutes talking to the store manager and got it fixed for the customer.

I’m just about to take my break when a man in overalls, drenched, hurries in the front door. “My basement is flooding. What’s the fastest way to drain it?”

I don’t even hesitate. “Simple. Drill a few holes in the floor and let gravity do the rest. Water always goes down. Can’t defeat gravity!”

“I found a real genius!” he says, and then rushes off to tell the manager about me.

When my first paycheck materializes at the end of the week, I decide to reinvest it into social networking. I invite Beth to lunch at the Taco Bell on Highway E.

“There’s nothing I would love more in the world,” she replies, her enthusiasm visible.

Interesting, for the remainder of the shift, as she did yesterday, she appears to lose all grasp of the English Language. Whenever I approach her register to coordinate our departure, she simply stares at me, blinking. It’s a fascinating game she plays with me that keeps our dynamic fresh.

I am thriving in Lake Vernon.

The End of the Beginning

A year into my reign at Menards, Beth approaches me during a lull in foot traffic. She tugs at my shoulder and whispers conspiratorially, “I have something to show you in the break room.”

Beth has spent more and more time talking to a tall man who has been visiting the store regularly, so I'm happy she's found time for me. My heart races with excitement. Logically, the break room is an unconventional venue for a romantic escalation, but I am prepared for anything.

When I cross the threshold, the room erupts. “Surprise!”

It’s a full assembly of the Walmart workforce. The room is decorated with helium balloons and a small sheet cake that says “One Year Anniversary!”

“Surprise!” everyone yells in unison.

“For your Walmart birthday,” Beth said, a nervous tremor in her smile. “We all chipped in… and rented you a beautiful little cabin on Bear Lake, in Northern Wisconsin.”

I stood there, processing the data. They hadn't just noticed my presence; they had formed a committee to honor it.

The store manager claps a hand onto my shoulder, “I’ve already talked to the Menards up there, Scott. You are going to be a big fish in a small pond.”

I beam. “I love the sound of that.”

As I cut myself an extra-large piece of cake, I realize that geographic mobility is the ultimate catalyst of inner happiness.

With my high IQ and the common people’s obvious appreciation for my genius, the possibilities feel endless. I have an entire continent of big box retail stores to enlighten. One small pond at a time.