When you work for Comcast, all you have to do is wear a phone headset and stretch back in your desk chair, yoga-style, while playing cat’s cradle with a piece of yarn. You say things like, “I’m going to transfer you to the billing department,” and “Did you try restarting the thingie?” and “Actually, there is no customer service department at Comcast, that’s kind of our thing” and “Well, try restarting again.” If you ever feel tired you just say, “Hold,” and then turn on a 47-minute saxophone version of John Lennon’s “Imagine” while you doze face-down in your cubicle.
Archive for September, 2008
Elementary school band teachers are the butt of jokes made by pre-pimpled youth everywhere. Let’s change this! Let’s be the Cool Band Teacher. Here’s what I’m thinking: day one, we wear our Ramones tee shirt. None of the other teachers have Ramones tee shirts (note: we have to wear a blazer over it until we get past the principal’s office). After the bell rings and the kids have settled into their seats, we’ll ignore them and strum our guitar quietly while glaring out the window. When Susie asks if she can learn drums, we’ll close our eyes and whisper, “Laaaaame.”
Do whatever you want, but I’m going to become a census taker. My job will be to travel to the homes of the people who didn’t fill out the government’s postage-prepaid questionnaires. This job is perfect for me because it involves my favorite things:
1. Circling the block looking for an address, like Ferdinand Magellan navigating the Pacific!
2. Using other people’s bathrooms. Guessing: electric toothbrush or regular?
3. Hearing, “Would you like a cup of coffee?” I always like a cup of coffee. And I can sip it and pet their elderly poodle while they fill out my questionnaire.
Adopt a cat from a shelter. Bring him home. Pour him a bowl of rice milk. Buy expensive mouse-shaped toys. Keep still when the cat dozes on your lap: don’t even breathe.
Recount cat-related anecdotes in that falsetto other women use to describe babies. Show off wallet-sizes photos of the cat at potlucks, until you stop being invited to potlucks.
Add the cat to your will, knit multi-colored cat booties, discuss the nature of life with the cat as he kneads your belly at night, half-lidded and sleepy.
When the cat dies (age fourteen, diabetes, one eye), get a dog.
If you are looking for a career that combines the fun part of science with cool technology and floating, you couldn’t hardly make a better choice than becoming a Space Astronaut.
And the bonus part is that even though the economy is crashing, you never hear about astronauts getting laid off and having to work an extra shift at Wendy’s to pay for their root canal.
Steps:
1. Pass your SATs, or ACTS, or another three-letter test approved by NASA.
2. Pee in a cup and get fitted for your Spaceman Suit.
3. Get in the rocket and fly.
Rules of Dumpster Diving:
1. Wear a headlamp. Dumpsters are dark, and you are going to need both hands free for extricating broken chair legs (future drum sticks) and burnt out lamps (potential cereal bowls).
2. Don’t physically get in the bins. Reach in with a hanger. Or: butterfly net, fishing pole, garden rake.
3. Don’t eat perishables from the dumpster. Even if they are beignet buns from a classy New Orleans restaurant and they look like they are in perfect condition.
4. Don’t leave a mess behind. It’s rude. What if this were your mother’s dumpster?
5. WASH HANDS.
When I was seven, I sketched a list of three possible life outcomes:
I. Ballerina
II. Detective
III. K-Mart Checkout Lady
Nearly two decades later, I have yet to achieve these goals. However, rather than consider my mission a failure, I simply implement the dreams of my youth into everyday life by:
1. Twirling on my tiptoes at the bus stop.
2. Investigating tax returns with a magnifying glass.
3. Utilizing the self-checkout system at the supermarket, sliding my cereal across the red laser and hearing the satisfying beep which reminds me:
a. I am alive.
b. It is good.
monk nun preacher priest sister brother deacon friar pope bishop canon rabbi hazzan gabbai minister cardinal chaplain archbishop pastor bhikkhuni ecclesiastic imam kohen elder clerk ascetic saint buddha monastic life advocate good samaritan rector churchman homilist parson servant of god reverend spiritual leader lady superior divinity doctor holy joe disciple padre diocesan vicar missionary jesus
OR
shoplifter criminal embezzler fugitive crook trespasser vandal kidnapper deviant assaulter dealer felon junkie murderer thief conspirator accomplice stabber mobster spy liar fraud extortionist cheater hypocrite con man counterfeiter poisoner probation-violator car-stealer drunk-driver double-parker hood-keyer hair-puller cheek-slapper toe-stomper rib-jabber ballot-box-stuffer baby-snatcher elderly-puncher puppy-kicker arsonist judas
Those who can’t do, teach. Those who can’t teach, on account of they have a severe distaste for children and/or public speaking, become accountants. Those who can’t become accountants, because they didn’t score well on their SATS, make coffee for accountants. Those who can’t make coffee for accountants, on account of they are way too demanding and prissy about their no-fat skim caramel double-whip lattes, become reflective and introspective.
Those who are reflective and introspective give longer hugs. Those who give longer hugs have more love in their lives. Those who have more love in their lives generally live forever.
“Bob, I wanted to check on that merger [business talk] assets are liquefied [business talk] company meeting [business talk] corporate infrastructure, with [business talk] high yielding profits, unless [business talk] new intern has a go-getter attitude [business talk] marketing department [business talk] definitely management potential [business talk] new secretary [business talk] blonde. Twenty-one, twenty-two maybe [business talk] Nice ass [business talk] new business cards [business talk] gross profit [business talk] capital, stocks or otherwise [business talk] after our six o’clock [business talk] hit the gym [business talk] quads, triceps [business talk] might actually be eighteen [business talk] on my yacht.”
