Disaster Relief

“And that’s that.”

I had to make sure the tea hit the table before he finished his sad story. I had all the deets I needed to figure out why he was so nervous, but there was always a little bit more to add to the mix.

Michael… Michael, Michael, Michael… I had known him since elementary school and he was brought in as a new student I had to show around the school in grade two. I saw him attempt to play all kinds of sports – he had a strange obsession with volleyball – and talk to all kinds of people who wanted nothing to do with him. Those people were mainly female people and he was a total failure before his balls dropped (vulgar to share it here, but he made a point of sharing a lot of unnecessary biological information with me). High school continued the trend, as he was often rejected on the floor of the gym during dances, told to get lost when he wanted to sit in certain parts of the cafeteria, and utterly humiliated when attempting to win votes to become student body president.

Where was I in all this, you might ask?

Observing…and possibly waiting for more.

People still wonder why I stayed friends with him. We lived in the same set of townhouses until we got to high school. I tried to get him to play road hockey with us, but he would worry that every slap shot would contain gravel (a fair complaint), or that drivers would not react in time to our yells of “Car!” I had to keep things quiet while the rest of the neighbourhood either ignored him or bullied him (no one ever believed I would kick their asses until I had to do so a few times, so the bullying was not a great problem). And then, he moved…about five blocks away. Most of the ones in the neighbourhood were happy to see the backs of them; I knew that he would still be a part of my life. He showed up at my school, and, well… As I said, things did not get any better.

And here we were, both young men who had very different lives now. He was working for some tech company, doing some amazing work with medical treatments and x-rays. And I had become…an engineer. Don’t be too impressed. It is computer engineering, and most of what I do could probably be done by a monkey with less upper body strength and more curiosity. It paid well, and I could keep my girlfriend off my back when she tried to compare my life to her online position (OnlyFans has a lot to answer for). It was also the reason why I was still in touch with Michael. Our company did a lot of work with different start-ups, and he was on our list. And I was actually happy to see him. I was; I really was.

But…here we were.

Another bad break up… Another set of bad situations with women… And the biggest surprise of them all: money problems.

It was a start-up (did I say that?). It was a start-up in the tech industry. The 90s were over, and most of the ones who lost their shirts back then had moved on. They had learned their lesson.

But, not everyone got the message.

Seriously, how could they be in debt, and how could Michael be so broke personally?

It was because he started things out and his name was prominent in the paperwork.

Yeah, like I said, some people did not learn a damn thing. We were kids when the first tech bubble burst. I paid a lot of attention to it, and I even managed to avoid losing my own shirt when the excrement hit the A/C. Michael had to be tricked into not investing what little he had in a sinking ship. I put it away for him, claiming that I was going to buy stock in something called “Your Mouse and You” (don’t ask). When reality called and the walls caved in, I saw the news, drove over to his house, knocked on the back door (his room was basically the basement of a house his parents kept for tax reasons), and pushed it open when he called. Through his tears, I could see that he was having second thoughts about his recent investment decisions (ha, ha). And when he learned what I did, the mix of emotions on that face was a fantastic performance of hate and love.

Maybe that was why he was here, trusting me to hear him out.

“What the hell am I going to do?”

I did not speak. The tea was cooling in his cup and my coffee was long finished.

And I had a thought.

*

As some of you know, I only had an amateur’s interest in the world wide web. Too many people seem totally addicted to their screens, and I felt some guilt over this. I build computers and computer systems; I am just as guilty as anyone else in the industry for creating an addiction that no one can shake. But there are upsides in even the most difficult situations.

You all heard of GoFundMe? Of course you have. Anyone with a project or plan that needs some money to get it in flight goes there and begs for contributions. I had already been sending in money for an account on Patreon, and knew that there were others that needed help (won’t get into specifics with latter; let’s just say that I hope to see my name in the credits of the next indie movie to become a hit; fingers double-crossed). I saw no problem with attempting to explain my friend’s difficulties with a pledge or a promise to help him out, even though a part of me thought of it as some sort of practical joke I could spring later on.

Yeah, some joke.

The money was fast and furious, as they say (don’t they?). I saw that we had made more than enough by the end of the week to keep him above water for a little while. And there was really no need to stop the thing from pulling in cash (no laws were broken; no one was forced to send a penny in). And that was when it hit me.

What about all his other problems?

Remember all those female persons I mentioned that he would harass (harsh word, but the one that works best for this)? I wondered if there was something better than just a dating app to get him back on the market. FixEmUp was a pretty bright idea. And it did not take a long time for me to build it all up and have you all take part in trying to improve what seemed to be a lost cause. All those links recommending clothes, shoes, haircuts, cars, music, hobbies and so on were so brilliant. People realized that they could basically build their own man or woman out of the parts that came from their own tastes. Michael was a start, but soon it just grew and grew until it turned into…

Well, you all know.

But Michael does not.

I’m sure once he sees what we have accomplished in less than a year, he will be overjoyed. I know that he does not want to wallow in his own pitifulness, and that the company ain’t doing too well. He needs this; I need this; we all need this…

Wish us luck.

Signing off...

KD