Ball's job search drama: Learning to think for himself

‘Do you mind if I make a decision for myself about what kind of work I would like to do?’ asked Ball.

I called in to see him last night after work.

He and other family members, including his girlfriend Jay and elder brother Boy, were gathered around the television.

Boy also brought home with him a former soldier friend, who was chatty and started asking me questions as soon as I arrived.

I couldn’t be bothered being pleasant, so let Ball answer questions for me.

After five minutes, I asked Ball to leave his perch by the girlfriend, and sit next to me instead. We needed to talk.

About six hours before, I had dropped in to his place to ask Ball why he had chosen not to turn up for work at my company that morning.

At his mother’s request, I had found him a job, and earlier taken him to the interview.

It would be manual piecemeal work, but if he liked it, and the company liked him, he would be offered a permanent position.

However, Ball decided not to show for his first day at work.

This upset me, as I thought that any job, no matter how dull or tiring, would be better than rotting away at home with nothing to do.

Ball’s family has little to come and go on; sometimes, his mother struggles to find even B20 a day to give to her kids. So the job I found for Ball could only be good, right?

When I visited Ball’s place in early afternoon, I was too full of anger to consider that he may have his own reasons for knocking back the work.

‘Your son just wants to drink late, and get up late,’ I told his mother bitterly. ‘That’s all he expects from his life.’

Ball was taking a shower. When he emerged, I could barely bring myself to look at him.

I also let off steam before his brother, and his elder sister, who was sympathetic.

‘Please keep him away from the ya dong. When he drinks, he finds it hard to get up the next day. Yet if he wants a job, he has to be ready to assume responsibility,’ she said.

After dressing, Ball joined us briefly. He had arranged to meet his drinking friend Na, who took him around the neighbourhood looking for jobs elsewhere.

Ball’s mother was shelling prawns for lunch, but Ball did not stay. At the first opportunity, he slipped out the door.

Ball left home without any food money. With the angry farang present, he was too scared to ask his mother.

Later that night, I turned up at his place seeking an explanation for his no-show.

‘I have thought about it many times, but I just don’t think I would be interested in that kind of work,’ he said. 'It’s repetitive, and boring. I am also shy, and would find it hard to talk to anyone there.

'I saw not a single person my age. Everyone was in their 50s or older,’ he said.

‘If I could take a friend, it would be more enjoyable, but I don’t want to go by myself.

‘I will keep looking for work. I plan to go out every day with Na until we find something.

He talked about his job-search adventures with Na.

'Today we walked from one end of a busy street to another. When we found a company advertising a vacancy in its window, we took down its number,’ he said.

'Please don’t get stressed. But do you mind if I make my own decision about where to work?’

I looked at my young friend. His question was so earnest. Whatever residual anger I felt, quickly dissolved.

‘I don’t mind at all. In fact, I think it’s great if you have the courage to make your own decision. Don’t let yourself be influenced by me, Na or anyone else. Just be yourself,’ I said.

I asked Ball if he would like a couple of beers to wind down. We walked to a shop nearby.

Sensibly, he did not ask for spirits. Ball is getting the message that his wild ways have to end.

Half an hour later, I asked to be excused. Ball walked me back across the vacant lot towards my condo.

‘I am not angry any more, and I am sorry I scared you out of your own place,’ I said.

Ball and I shook hands, and I said good-night.