The Trio by Johanna Hedman

Author:Johanna Hedman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Europa Editions
Published: 2023-07-17T00:00:00+00:00

Back in Stockholm I signed up for extra shifts at the restaurant. I’d used up a good chunk of my savings in Paris and wanted to make up for it. The job required me to be agreeable, but it didn’t require me to think or feel. August texted me to ask if I wanted to hang out, and it was easy to tell him I couldn’t—I was working. I didn’t hear from Thora, nor did I get in touch with her. And since our literature class had ended we didn’t see each other at university either. I spent my time with friends who required less of me, and I dated girls who laughed at my jokes and came when I made an effort.

I had a recurring nightmare where I was trying to text Thora and August only to have the message come out as distorted emojis and words taken out of any context. I seemed unable to string together real sentences; no matter how hard I tried, the only result was a hodgepodge of graphics and misspelled words. The panic of not being able to make myself understood lingered even after I woke up. I applied for a phone canvassing job at an aid organization, since waiting tables made me so tired I could barely focus on my studies. Many of my classmates had similar jobs at comparable organizations. They said it looked good on a CV, a motivation that appeared morally dubious to me. Then again, it didn’t seem noble enough to tell the interviewer I wanted a job just for the money. So I said I hoped to do something meaningful and help other people, and left brimming with self-loathing. I wanted to call up August and ask why it was considered ugly to work just so you could afford rent and groceries and subway fares and textbooks. I felt deceitful pretending that work was what gave life meaning, and yet that seemed to be the expectation at a job interview. But I didn’t call August; I’d resolved not to get in touch with him. Instead I brought it up with Tigran, who said that the alienation of work must be obfuscated by superficial ambitions of improving the world. He added, impassively, that if he couldn’t get a job in academia or at a museum after completing his PhD, he planned to make his living as a cleaner or a truck driver, writing for art and culture publications on the side.

“At least in that scenario nobody is going to ask me to pretend I’m saving the world,” he said. “It makes it easier to retain a sense of self-respect.”

A few days later I was offered the job, and all but left the restaurant. I was told I had a good phone voice: low and calm. The latter surprised me since I felt anything but calm, especially during my first few shifts. The people I got on the line sighed loudly when I told them my reason for calling;

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