A Few of My “Weird Job” Ideas

I am thigh-deep in the job search at the moment, so I’d like to take a moment to write down a few of the weirdest ideas I’ve had as to how to make money doing the least or the most interesting work possible.

Presidential Entertainer: everyone gets a little bored during the workday, and I’m sure the President of the U.S. is no different. So, I propose Mr. Obama hire me to keep things light and refreshing in the War Room. “Mr. President, you’re going to want to have a look at this,” and it’s a video of a cat eating a broccoli calzone and making a gross face. This will make drone strikes way more fun.

Scooby Doo: okay, bear with me on this one. I want to create a GoFundMe to deck out a van like the Mystery Machine and go around solving everyday mysteries. Like, if someone’s cat has gone missing: “Zoinks! I bet it was eaten alive by a wild coyote! This area is known for having a lot of coyotes.”

Refresher: for this professional role, I would basically just chew minty gum all day and breathe on people rich enough to pay me to have a minty breeze around them at all times.

Girl Scout Cookie Salesman: there is nothing I would love more than to prove the merits of capitalism by cornering the girl scout cookie market with slightly discounted prices, thereby ripping the rug out from under the Girl Scouts’ organization and assuming the monopoly. Plus, free Thin Mints.

The Pizza Man: I propose being paid $8 by whomever wants to pay me to put a piece of pizza in their enemy’s slipper and/or dress shoe. This accomplishes a few things: it ruins just one half of an enemy’s footwear, which is extremely frustrating; it ruins a perfectly good piece of pizza that the enemy probably wants to eat but now can’t because it is now foot-flavored; and it comes with a free slice of pizza which you can either eat or put in the other shoe on your own.

Pretzel Time Employee: okay, so this is an actual job that I could totally get, but I don’t think they would let me scream at all the people walking by in the mall that, “IT’S PRETZEL TIME!” and then peg them with cinnamon pretzel bites.

Professional Insulter: I would love to stand on the street and make fun of your friends for $2 a piece. I could make it performance-based too, as in you keep putting dollars into my jar as I continue ripping on your friends and the fact that nobody loves them.

Date Ruiner: are you in the middle of a God-awful date with a wet blanket? Then call me up and order the “Wet-Blanket Special” for just $29.99, where I come over to your table in the restaurant and wring out a wet blanket all over your date. Better yet, order the “Shit Special” for $45 and I will literally shit my pants right next to your date and never leave a two-foot radius next to them until they give up and go home. For the wealthier customers, I offer the “Mastur-dater” package for $79.99. This VIP-level package includes me getting a table where your date will be able to see me staring intently at them, and very obviously masturbating underneath the table while maintaining VERY uncomfortable eye contact. If this isn’t enough, I can pretend to “finish” for an additional $10, and if you guys switch tables, I will do the same for an additional $15 and a basket of bread (in stick form, prefereably) from your table.

The Other Pizza Man: did you really just order a large bacon-pepperoni-and-no-vegetable pizza from Domino’s all for yourself? Do you want to save some face in front of the delivery guy who would otherwise know exactly how much of that pizza is going right into your mouth in front of a TV as soon as he shuts the door? Hire me for just $5.99 to stand behind you when you answer the door to make it look like you’re going to share the pizza. For a slice of the pizza, I will also wear stained sweatpants and a scraggly beard to make you look like royalty.

The Dancer: are we human, or are we dancer? Who the fuck cares when you have a guy like me busting atrocious moves out on the dance floor for you to point out and make fun of to your date? For just $19.99, I’ll even get dressed up like Michael Jackson with the one shiny glove and wear blackface for extra controversy.

Your White Friend: are you an African American man or woman in need of someone to keep the police from harassing/tazing you for no reason? Well, look no further for the whitest friend you could possibly imagine. Trying to impress your boys with your mad rap skills? I’ll wear a bunch of white shit like horn-rimmed glasses and beige turtleneck sweaters for you to rip apart in a rap battle.

I’m a Dirty Little Man

I have hit an all-time low. I’m at the tail end of a couple of hours filled with applications to various writing and editing internships, and I am mentally drained. I am also very, very ashamed. Today’s events will make a pretty good episode of my reality show that people most likely watch in some sort of alternate reality.

I’m not ashamed because of my failure to secure a job I want- no, I actually enjoy the rejections now. They assure me that life is meaningless and I am doing absolutely everything wrong. Now, instead of crying into my pillow at night, I laugh like a clinically insane person living in a shopping cart under a bridge in Cincinnati as I think about how ridiculously hard we have to work to find jobs nowadays. I relish the large portion of the best years of my life I spend looking at a computer screen filled with Tweets and Help Wanted ads. 

Just so you know, I’m still sniggering right now. I find it extremely funny how low I have sunk a self-proclaimed, “writer.” Just how low can I go, you ask? This is how low I can, and have (recently), gone:

I just submitted an application to write dirty, “Adult” short stories for a well-known porn actress to narrate and sell to what must be very, very desperate and/or kinky people with internet access and a Kindle.

Get your scoffs and disappointing exhalations of breath out of the way, you animals. A writer has to do what a writer has to do, and in this case, what this writer has to do is stoop to levels so low, they were previously only achieved by the world champion of limbo.

In case you were wondering, the world champion of limbo is this person:

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How she gets back up; I do not know

I have to say, though, she comes nowhere close to how low I can go… in terms of MORALS!!!! (Not physical height). In all seriousness, keep me in your prayers or personal diaries, whichever you prefer. I need this job. I also need to rapidly become very good at writing dirty short stories. Here are a few titles I just thought of:

Gulliver’s Travels to the Brothel

Bone-e-o and Juliet

Moby Dick (This one pretty much wrote itself)

Suckleberry Finn

Nineteen Eighty-Whore

Catcher in the Guy

 

Get a Job

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Get a job. Make some money. Spend that cash on a lot of stuff you don’t need, save it for something you want but don’t need, or donate it. These are just a few of the reasons we all strive for better livelihoods.

I think the saying, “The grass is always greener” is all about greenbacks. The grass on the other side of that fence looks greener because it’s seeded with actual money. Cash bought the fertilizer, lawnmower, and really cool decorative gnomes that make that side look appear far better.

So you get over that fence, take a little stroll around, really soak up the atmosphere, and to your great surprise, not all of your wildest dreams have instantly come true. When other people walk by, they “ooh” and “aah” all over your beautifully manicured lawn as you beam, taking pleasure in others’ admiration of the lawn that you posses.

And then guess what happens? The people that walked by have all gone on to live their separate lives. But wait, there’s more! Your precious lawn has completely vanished from their minds. Poof. Just like that, your lawn has been placed in the recycling bin. Your lawn now rests besides memories of videos of goats screaming like humans, the location of their car keys (But I could have sworn I left them on the counter), and the oh-so interesting fact that baboons have been known to kidnap puppies and raise them as pets.*

*Absolutely true. This is the internet, after all. Everything is true. 

So where does this sudden lack of any interest in your lawn leave you? If not sitting in the shower and crying, then at least looking out the window at night and realizing you can’t even see your lawn in the dark. It’s just a black surface, like everything else out there. You realize that if we were a nocturnal species, your massive investment in your lawn would be the laughing stock of all of Darkville.

So you start to look around, see what else is out there. You take a peek over at that fence you spent so much time and money getting over, and oooh, look! Whoever owned that land after you added a pool AND a sauna! And it would only cost you a few hundred thousand more than what your side of the fence is worth. With such low APR’s, a mortgage isn’t a good deal: it’s the best idea you’ve ever had! 

You pull the trigger, and the first few weeks are just the best. A few housewarming parties, some sauna sessions the mornings after, and just loving your your voice echos throughout the empty hallways. And then it becomes just another day in your awesome house with the super-cool pool that now needs to be professionally drained.

This is the point where you look out the window and begin to scream internally about the fact that you are now back on the side of the fence you worked so hard to get over. Not only that, but now you have a lot of extra things to pay for, including that mortgage that is on track to outlive you.

 This is when you suddenly remember all the missed opportunities. That trip to Bali with a college class. Your friend’s bachelor party where they just happened to come across Jackie Chan in a Chinese restaurant, and cheered him on as he consumed twenty-four spring rolls with extra spring.

My point is, stop looking at that fence. Take a look around. Guess what happened? You forgot how awesome other people are, and how fun that spontaneous decision to go mountain biking was. It sounds cliche, but get out there and do something. Try something new. I tried French toast for the first time in my life a few months ago, and it changed me as a person.

If you really think that all that shiny stuff on the other side of the fence will make you happier, then by all means, go for it. But at least make that money by doing something you’re excited to do. The days fly by like a classic novel, and if you were to write a novel about your life, you wouldn’t want your career achievements to be just a few paragraphs. Make sure those pages turn into chapters filled with things you want to read.

Have yourself an A-1 day.

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