“I’m Ben,” he said, looking at his new work mate. Without looking up, David half-grunted “hey.” Ben wasn’t sure how to take that, but decided not to press it. Jack nodded at both of them and then headed out of the shop.
Ben pulled out a handful of cables and started cutting off the ends in preparation for re-soldering. It was tedious work, and by lunch break, he’d only finished about 20 cables. But it was also strangely satisfying, even though the work resided at the very bottom of the totem pole.
After lunch, Ben set out to complete 30 cables, and by 3 pm, his hands hurt and he had a headache. David hadn’t said one word to him, which was a bit unnerving, but he stuck it out and reached his goal before it was time to head home.
For the remainder of the week, Ben fixed more bad cables, put together some new 100-foot XLR cables at Jack’s request, and made sure his bench stayed clean and neat. He felt a certain pride in his work even though it was tough going and his hands were sore and dirty all the time.
The only thing that bothered him was that David had said very little, other than to nod and grunt when he came in every morning. David was always there before him and left at about 3:30. By the same token, Ben had not really pushed David to talk with him, figuring that the right time would come.
On Monday morning of his third week at FSC, he arrived at 8:55 as usual. David wasn’t there, but Jack was. As Ben was about to sit down at his bench, Jack motioned for him to come over. “Ben, listen up. Earlier this morning, David and I were testing some of the cables you guys repaired and we found a bunch that had pin 2 and pin 3 reversed. David looked at them and said there was no way they could have been his, so this falls to you. I’ve put them on your bench to fix. I like you, Ben, but we can’t have that kind of error. You really need to pay attention and be careful, OK?”
It wasn’t a harsh reprimand, but Ben was embarrassed. He nodded, sat down and started fixing the first of the two dozen or so miss-wired cables.
After he’d opened up a few of them, it was obvious that these cables weren’t his work. The way the wires were stripped back didn’t look like his technique—after doing hundreds of them, well, he just knew. He debated about saying something to Jack, but decided against it. Ben was hurt, though, and believed that David had sold him out—not a comforting thought. He pushed on through the rest of the day, correcting every cable.
At home that night, he called his favorite former teacher from school, an electronics guru. The teacher listened to Ben’s story quietly, then responded with sage advice: “Ben, listen. I understand how that must feel, but remember that each and every situation is an opportunity for learning. It might not be obvious yet what you’re supposed to learn from this, but in time it will become clear.”
Ben resolved to stick with it, even going so far as to envision eventually finding out more about David and possibly becoming friends.
Either that, or maybe David wasn’t long for the company and Ben might move one small notch up the sound mountain. It was a lot to think about.
Taylor Jensen is a freelance pro audio writer.