It's late. You're sitting on the deck outside at your friend's house. You have a bitter, very bitter, IPA in your hand and you're watching the condensation collect on the neck of the bottle. Your friend walks up to you, smirking. You and me, he says, I think we'd make a good team. He laughs.
He had asked you to help him out with some work-related things. He's starting his own company in the Tech industry. He wanted to bounce ideas off you. You have been doing this for weeks now and it you didn't mind, you missed hanging out with him and though this would be a good excuse to do to see him a couple of times a week.
He starts to talk at you. You think he's talking at you because he's got that tone in his voice that sounds like and says "I don't want you to interrupt me". So you don't. You sip on your beer and listen to him. By the time you're finished with the bottle in your hand, he says, "I want you to be my Steve Jobs".
You laugh. Like you always do. Steve Jobs was an important person. You on the other hand, are not. You continue to joke with him but he's being completely serious. You stop paying attention to him and think about that trailer that had just been released. The one about the actual Steve Jobs. The one that made you want to be like this guy even though he comes off at intense and abrasive and creative and groundbreaking. These things you can never be.
You still don't know how to deal with this. He's still talking at you. You hear him talk about your creativity. Your mind. How he doesn't understand how you come up with the ideas you come up with. He says he's in awe. He tells you he's been working at a start-up for years and people like you do not come along to work in an office. They don't waste away in a mailroom the way you want to.
He says people like Steve Jobs, people like you, think in ways that others cannot. He says that people like you shape the future instead of wait for it to come. You laugh again. This can't be real, you think to yourself. You believe that he's fucking with you. Because you know he constantly fucks with you. You ask him.
His voice gets tone again. That "do not interrupt" me tone. You listen. He tells you he's not fucking with you. He tells you that he knows more than you'll ever know about people who succeed and people who fail. He says that you have so much potential while handing you another beer.
He says you will be rich. He says you will work for yourself. He tells you that you are not as average as you think you are. You laugh. He doesn't. He says he's changed everything he's done because of your ideas. He wants you to give him more. He does not want you to rot here.
No one wants you to rot here, in your hometown, living a life a stagnancy.
The sun is ready to rise and you walk into your home. You look around your childhood bedroom. The memories you scribbled on the wall. You take a look at the dirty mirror across from your computer desk. You stare at yourself for a minute.
You don't believe that you are anything like Steve Jobs. You don't believe that you are creative enough to "shape the future". You look down at your hands. They are rough. As much as you want to stop working jobs that require manual labor, you know that you will not. Does he really think I'm like Steve Jobs? Why would he say that? These questions haunt you. You cannot sleep.
Your brother walks in to check up on you. You tell him what happened earlier tonight -- or yesterday. He agrees with your friend. He says you have a talent. You don't believe it. You listen to your brother, or maybe you just half-listen because you find it hard to believe that anyone would put so much stock in you when you cannot find any stock to put in yourself.
You are not Steve Jobs, you think to yourself before you force yourself to sleep, you are not important. You try your best to get some rest, you know UPS and FedEx will arrive early and you do not want to be late for work.