A couple of years go by, The job becomes mundane, and I begin to grow restless.Slowly but surely, my boredom begins to drive me insane. 

Surely there is a way to market that isn’t so damn boring. That’s when I hear it. 

A small voice whispers to me from the dirtiest corner of my mind. 

 Facebook. Facebook?

At only a few years old, Facebook isn’t a marketing powerhouse just yet. It’s mostly just filled with college kids and memes. 

I wrinkle my nose at the thought of it, but intuition tells me I’m on to something. When I mention using Facebook to Eddie that afternoon, he insists that it’s a total waste of time. 

I’m not all that surprised by his response. Nor am I offended by his ignorance. After all, he isn’t using social media. Then again, most companies aren’t. Not yet at least. From the outside looking in, his assumptions make a lot of sense.

Against my boss’s better judgment, I rebelliously  create a Facebook page anyway. 

Facebook is a marketing goldmine. He’ll see. 

Little did I know, that at the tender age of 23, just how very right I’d come to be about Facebook in the years that would follow.

Once I get the hang of Facebook, I grow the page to 8,000 followers in just a few short months. The excitement of this achievement quickly fades. Shortly after it does, I start job hunting like the insatiable lunatic that I am. Part of me doesn’t even want to leave. After all, the job has brought me many positive things. Like Noel, for example. (meet Noel) She’s my assistant here and one of my favorite people in the whole world. Despite the good things about it, every couple weeks, I have this innate desire to blow my life up, from the ground up. Plus, lately, Eddie (my boss) was getting on my damn nerves.

What is wrong with you? You can’t just quit your job because your boss pisses you off. You have bills bitch. Real fucking bills. And everybody has a boss that pisses them off.

My phone dings on my desk, interrupting my thoughts. Ironically enough, it’s Noel texting me.

“Hi. I was just thinking about you.”

“Yeah. Hi, Whatever. Jessi. You have to help me.”

“What? Why? What’s going on?” I ask.

“It’s Jose. He’s driving me crazy. You’re good with people. You have to help me!”

Jose’s a mechanic at the park as well as a friend of hers, but I'm not sure what he could possibly have to do with me. I don't even manage that part of the park.

Did she say I’m good with people?

“I’m good with people? Since when?” She doesn’t say anything immediately but I hear an exasperated sigh escape her. I can almost see her eyes roll to the back of her head through the phone. 

“Since always. Just help me! Please.”

“Okay! Okay! What is it exactly that you want me to do again?”

“I dunno. Just talk to him so he leaves me the fuck alone. He’s going through a breakup, and I don’t know what to fucking tell him anymore.” 

I nod slowly, soaking this in.

“Ok, I can do that,” I reply.

Why me?

“Thank you! I owe you one,” she promises. 

This is hands down the weirdest and most random favor she’s ever asked of me. Part of me wishes it was just another call from her, begging me to rescue her from some sketchy party instead. This favor seems far more complicated.