83: Alcohol, Entrepreneurship, and Reminiscing

“I’m thinking of starting a business.”

Good luck.

Well then.

“Listen to me~!”

I was being hassled by a drunk.

The name of this drunk was “Martin.” Lately, whenever we meet, he always complains. Even when we don’t meet, he complains. Every night, he sends messages to my communication device asking, “Hey, what do you think the meaning of life is?” He seems genuinely worn out these days, and his words are becoming increasingly incomprehensible. I have advised him numerous times to “change jobs,” but it’s strange—no matter how many times he says, “I’ll quit!” in reality, he seems to have zero intention of actually changing jobs.

“You keep pushing me to change jobs, but why are you so cold when I mention starting a business!”

The drunk wanted a refill of alcohol, but I canceled that and ordered hot tea for both of us.

We needed something to sober us up.

Or rather, I regretted telling Martin, “I don’t think we’ll be drinking together for more than two years.”

After all, Milim and I had already started living together. I should have limited it to “for the rest of this year” without slipping out “two years.” I’m seriously thinking that…

Martin wasn’t boring to talk to.

But due to the pressure from work, he has no mental space left, and his topics of conversation are only about “complaining about work.” Moreover, he never considers the listener, me, and he always tries to linger at the pub for as long as possible. Well, it’s just not good in various ways.

I say—starting a business is a good idea. But I don’t feel any passion for it. I don’t feel any passion for the theory or the “entrepreneurship” itself. It feels really bad that entrepreneurship has become the end goal.

“Don’t be so indifferent! Be more… Oh, no. No, that’s right. Because you’re that kind of person, I can say various things like this… If you were to say something like ‘Let’s do it!’ here, I might just announce my resignation to the boss right now.”

Martin seemed to regain a bit of composure.

“No, I get it. But, you know, at my current workplace, the salary is… yeah, well, what? Compared to other similar companies? The salary is… um, but there’s no overtime pay… well, is the salary just about enough? Is it okay?”

I don’t know.

Tell me your annual income and working hours.

What Martin revealed was an astonishing figure. Unbelievable… Your salary (calculated by hours) is too low…?

I suggested leaving it to the hands of the law. I could even introduce the lawyer I have on retainer to him.

“Why do you have a lawyer on retainer?”

You can’t become a generalist.

I have conducted various research, acquired various skills, and studied extensively to pursue my current occupation.

People’s time is limited. Therefore, there’s no way I could beat someone who has spent as much time studying law as I did to become a teacher.

But law is something that affects your life… and it’s not an ally of the weak. It’s more of an ally to those who know the law better.

—

Please let me know if you need any further assistance!

So, in order to ally myself with the law, I was making connections.

“Haa… Rex, seriously, Rex.”

I believe that my arguments have logical consistency, but it seems that they often lead to “unreachable conclusions” for others.

Looking back now, I feel like I’ve been told things like “Yeah, you’re right, Rex.”

Perhaps there is some logic out there that I am unaware of.

“It’s not about unknown logic, it’s that you always overthink. What else? Let’s live with **pathos**.”

Passion (pathos), huh.

But my ideal is to live a life where I can “somehow” get by without relying on passion or enthusiasm…

To live a normal life, where normal things happen. That’s my ideal.

It’s better to live without any motivation. But life doesn’t work that way, so I’m sure I’ll always be “overthinking.”

“You’re still acting like an alien… Actually, I’ve always been a little scared of you.”

Even though we’ve known each other since nursery school?

From noble mtl dot com

“Well, I didn’t really understand your scariness in nursery school or kindergarten, but I vaguely felt it in elementary school, and I was convinced in middle school. You’re scary. I don’t know how to put it… But I seriously think you’re dangerous.”

I hope you can put it into words.

I’m afraid of being seen as abnormal by society. Society is harsh on “things that are different”… What I aspire to is a way of living that doesn’t create enemies. So I want to be as normal as possible as a 23-year-old. That’s why I’m making an effort.

“I think those who make an effort for that kind of thing can never be ‘normal’… Ah… That’s right. This, this is it. When I look at you, I think most problems are ‘insignificant’. I can’t stop hanging out with you.”

Martin agreed with himself and started preparing to leave on his own.

I stopped him. Wait a minute. Let’s get everything out in the open. About me… about how I appear to you…

I just couldn’t let Martin go back, looking satisfied and leaving me wondering.

“…I have work tomorrow… Well, whatever. Okay, I got it. Today, I’ll accompany you. Usually, you’re the one accompanying me, so… Yeah, let’s start with… ‘It’s not good for an elementary school kid to fight and win against half the class alone,’ maybe…”

– This is the story of our first fight.

On the day when the trend of “It’s uncool to play with girls!” spread among the first graders, our power dynamics were somehow decided…