professions i’d be bad at
I didn’t bring a lunch and have plans for picking up chinese. I have a four-day weekend planned. Things here are relatively slow just now. I’m more exhausted than usual. I have some shopping to get done tonight. For all these reasons, and probably more, this last hour of work already feels like a trek through the desert, Bear Grylls style without the hotels and camera crew.
In the interest of speeding up the torturous moments, and because it just crossed my mind yesterday, here’s a list of occupations I’d never be able to partake in:
Bus driver
I don’t like driving in the city all that much and don’t at all like annoying people. For this reason, my being a bus driver would be akin to a hefty five-hundred-pound gentleman being a personal trainer. There’s a strong probability of my driving it at excess speeds into perilous turns just to kick-start my neurons in the face of such stress. On another note, the uniforms in no way accentuate my model-like features. I’ve never worn one, but I’m 99.786% positive I look terrible in sweater-vests.
Day car professional
I worked as a janitorial engineer in one back before college. Kids apparently until tween age lick everything. This is a disgusting habit. I would likely wipe something noxious onto the windows and the resulting quarantine would have the whole neighborhood talking. Have you ever talked to kids? It’s all about them and it’s almost complete nonsense. I’d never be able to tolerate it. If I’m talking about myself in never-ending sequences of nonsensical stories, how will I ever find the time to listen to their babbling? My stories are far better anyway; no one cares if there’s a new character on [fill in name of disney or nickelodeon cartoon here] this week?
Bouncer
My frame is small, so I’d have to waste valuable movie-watching hours in the gym to bulk up to a point of intimidation. Strike one. I’d have to constantly interact with people in varying levels of drunk. Strike three because that counts as two. There is one plus: it would give me an excuse to create a 40 days and 40 nights-style website where people placed bets on how long it’d take for me to launch a bar stool through someone’s face. I just don’t have the patience for such things.
Tour guide at art museum
I appreciate art. I understand the skill that goes into it. I admire it and enjoy visiting museums to do just that. I hate listening to people talk about it. I can’t imagine being able to acceptably pull off bullshitting for such an extended period of time. At one of the paintings I’d lose my cool. I’d feel the blood rush to my cheeks and I’d burst out before realizing it:
“Turns out, this one’s just a flower. O’Keeffe had a gigantic garden and she liked to plant flowers of every hue. Then she’d paint them. It’s not a symbol for her emerging womanhood. It’s not depicting her struggle against a male-dominated industry. It’s not a sexual awakening. Those stamen aren’t representations of the most important men in her life through oil on steel. They are stamen. They are the center of the flower she decided to paint. It just happens to be pink. The color means nothing. Moving on, here we have another. This one is oil on canvas. It’s another flower. All this lady does is paint flowers. They are static and uninteresting. She chose them because she couldn’t paint with any detail. Over there is a wall of more brightly colored flowers because she got her paints at a bulk rate in the fall. Please follow me to your left and I’ll show you another small room of more flowers. No flash photography, please. That means you in the New York Yankees hat. Are you from New York? .. Right, I didn’t think so. Fun update for everyone here. If you haven’t lived in or visited New York, but wear their teams’ hats, you’re a dick. Here on your right is a yellow flower. Notice the green of the leaves, like on almost all her other…”
the truth for now Says: