So it’s Labor Day. It’s gorgeous out. I’m happy to be (a) alive (b) employed and (c) not working today. I am good enough at my job to not get fired I suppose. But here are some jobs I am confident I would suck at and, consequently, would be fired from:
Talk show host – I detest celebrities. I zone out mid-conversation. I am just no good at faking it with anything that doesn’t interest me. So I’d be really bad at holding a conversation with Martha Stewart about napkin rings without asking who the fuck cares about napkin rings.
Carpenter – If anyone has ever had the misfortune of seeing me use tools, you’ll understand. For anyone else, just imagine a drunk monkey trying to play Jenga.
Wedding Planner – "I’m sorry…what day did you think you were getting married? Oh hmmm, it seems I wrote down the following weekend on this Snickers wrapper here…"
Professional Golfer – "Let me get this straight, there’s no windmill? And I’m supposed to get this… in there? From... here?"
Sex Therapist – A tutor perhaps, yes. And I like to think I’d make a damn fine sex tutor. But a therapist? Like where I can’t laugh at people?
Prima Ballerina – Picture me in a pink tutu with one hand in the air and one foot on the bar. Now picture me in a spaghetti-stained tutu with one hand on a beer at a shady bar. Which makes more sense?
Waldo - "Must you always be looking for me?"
Sign Language Interpreter - I'd start making stuff up just to see if anyone was paying attention. And I'm pretty sure that teaching the hearing-impaired audience about my "Sex Tutor of the Year" award during a lecture about global warming wouldn't be appreciated.
Blogger - Case in point.
