The Bagel Story: What One Journey Can Offer Other Creators

“Why” is the purpose and the meaning of every single endeavor undertaken. For those in creative industries and even outside these areas, there is often a journey to finding this “why.” In this piece, my own journey is on display and offers lessons to anyone who is in the process of finding their purpose and meaning.

It was the early nineties. I hadn’t been in L.A. long. Like so many others, I moved there from the Midwest to pursue my Hollywood dream. Fox was still in the nascent stage. The biggest thing on basic cable was CNN, feasting on Desert Storm coverage. Netflix wasn’t streaming yet. I mean, DVD players hadn’t even been invented. And I was a production assistant at ABC, one of the big three networks. I was lucky.

Living in L.A. then was like living in an insane movie. We were mired in the aftermath of the Rodney King riots. The Big Bear Earthquake was literally a wake-up call. O.J. was crawling from cops in a Bronco. The North Hollywood shootout would soon inspire “Heat.” The Northridge Earthquake was lurking just beneath our feet. Life was stranger than fiction.

What started out like every other incredible morning in Hollywood, was about to become transformative. My horrible day certainly doesn’t rank among real tragedies. But I was certain my Hollywood dream was already over.

I was passing the conference room when a senior executive stuck his head out. Entry level in Hollywood then meant tolerating what we now consider to be verbal abuse. There was a lot of yelling and cursing that day, so I won’t use names. Suffice to say this guy was several levels above my boss’ boss. He saw me and said, “Marks, get over here.” He knew my name. Me. A lowly PA. A kid from nowhere who was nobody.

I was riding high. But very soon, I would wish that he didn’t know my name or see me that morning in the hall outside the main conference room.

A meeting was in progress, stacked with people I’d love to meet: a showrunner, producers, and writers of a primetime hit drama. Someone forgot to order breakfast. “Bagels, coffee, and fruit,” came the order. Eager to please, I nearly set a land speed record getting from the office to my car in the subterranean garage some 8 levels below.

At Ralph’s, I found fresh fruit in the deli. That was as close as I came to getting breakfast right. Back then, there were not bagel shops on every corner. Starbucks had only around 100 stores. There are over 32,000 locations today. I had never eaten a bagel before. But I knew you ate them with cream cheese. So, a mad dash through the dairy section and I had a hard block of Philadelphia in hand. Two bags of pre-packaged bagels later, I was headed for coffee. Only about 100 Starbucks in the whole world, remember? Not one of them was inside a grocery store. I bought ground coffee beans.

Back in a flash, I knocked on the conference room door and entered. As I emptied my bags, I noticed some odd looks from around the around the room. When I put down the block of cream cheese, this executive who knows my name stopped cold. He came over to where I was setting up breakfast. Was I about to get a “thank you?” An “attaboy?”

He picked up the block of cream cheese and shouted, “Are you an idiot? What the fuck am I meant to do with this?” He threw the cream cheese into the trash. I was still emptying the bag, and this is when I produced the coffee beans. He snatched them from my feeble grip. They too soared into the trash. “Do you see a damn coffee maker?” he shouts again. “Get out.”

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I don’t know how I made it back to my cubicle without crying. I was mortified. Not because I was yelled at. Not because profanities were hurled in my direction. I deserved that. I MESSED up.

This executive, who 45 minutes ago I assumed didn’t know my name, now saw me as the rube I clearly was.

I hid all day, fighting back tears. Waiting. I was expecting a call any minute from HR for an exit interview. That was one of the longest days of my life. I made a point of coming in before my boss and leaving after my boss, usually near-first in and last out. That day, I stayed until I was pretty sure everyone had left.

To get to the elevators, I had to walk right past this executive’s office. Of all the people to still be working, of course, he was there. Something I can’t explain to this day stirred me to stick my head inside his door.

“Marks, still here?” Did he mean employed or working late? I stepped into his office, and asked, “Why did you yell at me like that?” He led me into the hall. “You see all these cubicles?” I nodded.  “If you took a minute to ask anyone, where do we order breakfast, you would have gotten it right. And if I can’t trust you to get the bagel order right, how am I ever going to trust you with something important?” 

Then he said something I didn’t expect to hear. “See you tomorrow.”

I learned so much that day. A job done right is better than a job done fast. It’s okay to ask for help. Every task is a stepping stone to doing bigger and better things. Most significantly, I learned to ask why. This has served me for the rest of my career.

“Why” is the purpose and the meaning of every single endeavor undertaken. It is the answer to everything from simple questions to profound mysteries. Every other question merely provides context to the answer to why. Who, what, where, when and how are logistical questions. When we know the answers to these questions, we can participate but lack understanding. It is only by asking why that we get clarity.

You have greater success when you understand. Asking why eliminates confusion and reduces the chance for mistakes, wasting time, and money. “Why” gives your work purpose and meaning. “Why” positions you for success and, ultimately, greatness.