Monday, October 15, 2012

My Top Five Dream Jobs

America's pastime isn't baseball. No. It's complaining about your job. Everybody does it.  Even if the person likes their job.  It's like something within our DNA forces us to whine about our jobs during idle conversation. Maybe it's just a way for us to bond.

But then, sometimes, we follow the whinge with some "grass is greener" scenario that suggests a job that better fits our skill set would make us "happier."    Like "man, if I only had a job where I worked outside.  That'd be the life."  Or "man, if I only had a job where I sat on my fat ass all day and watched TV while someone rubbed my shoulders. I'd be so good at that."

Well, I'm no better than anyone else, so here are my TOP FIVE DREAM JOBS!

5) Beach Lifeguard (yeah, like Baywatch).

Why this would be a dream job: I love to sit and look at the ocean.  I find it very peaceful.
Why this wouldn't work: I can't swim.

I'm one of those people that finds comfort in the depth of nature, even if I'm more of a city kid and don't love things like camping...or even going to the beach actually.  But the idea of sitting in a lifeguard tower, relaxing in the sun, and watching the ocean all day sounds therapeutic and appealing.  Unfortunately, in this line of work, thousands of people count on you to ensure their safety. And no one should count on me for anything, let alone their lives.  I've always been shit under pressure.  And I'm kinda lazy. Yeah.  So, if I was on the job, this would probably be the likely scenario if tragedy ever struck:


Next time, don't swim out so far.  OK, maybe I should scratch this one off the list.

4) Ice Cream Shop Owner

Why This Would Be A Dream Job:  Who's every angry at an Ice Cream Parlor?
Why This Wouldn't Work:  I have zero business acumen and would probably forget to, ya know, order things.  Plus, it's not 1950 anymore.  How many of these actually exist?
Another Reason It Would Be A Dream Job: I could wear a paper hat.
Another Reason Why This Wouldn't Work:  I'd eat all the ice cream.

But I'd have the best flavor names around!


"Sir, this was really good. Can I get a pint of the Cookies n Cream...In You Pants *Hey Oh* to go for my wife?  Oh, you're out? Hmmm, how about the Mango(fuckyourself) sherbet?

3) The Guy Who Writes English Signs For Foreign Countries.

Why This Would Be A Dream Job: Seems easy.  I'd get to work from home.  It'd require zero thought and/or effort. And maybe I could *eee* travel every so often to, ya know, get entertained by the clients. 
Why This Wouldn't Work: I don't think this job exists.

I know we've all seen the funny English signs in China, we've all had our lulz.

Wtf?

But even throughout numerous European countries, there are signs meant for English tourists that are just a bit off.  For example, and I'm making this up, instead of a hotel sign that says "We offer dry cleaning. Please request at the front desk."  It might say, "The dry cleaning of clothes is done with pleasure and care if you will leave it at the front desk." Kind fucked, right?  That's where I'd come in.  I won't translate your signs from other languages, I'm too stupid and uncultured for that. But just take your best shot at English, and I'll quickly write copy that makes perfect sense to English speaking travelers.  I assume good English is comforting to American tourists, and attention to this detail could only help word of mouth.  Though I'm lost on how to change the above sign.  Egads.

2)  The Host Of "The Amazing Race."

Why This Would Be A Dream Job:  Duh.
Why This Wouldn't Work: I don't think I'm a bad looking guy, but if you had to compare me to someone, and your only choices were Brad Pitt and a troll, you'd probably pick the troll.

This is arguably the coolest job on Earth.  You get numerous free, around the world trips (twice a year actually), and you literally do nothing but talk to people for a few minutes, and pretend to give a shit about what they just went through.  I have personality, I have zest.  I could kill at this job.  Plus, I'd add a little something extra.  When teams check in at the pit stop, I'll say, "Jen and Chris.  You are team number 2!" Then...


Every time to every team.  My little wrinkle.

1) The Last Guy On The Bench For The Knicks

Why This Would Be A Dream Job: Travel the country, get courtside seats to EVERY game, all while getting paid six figures to do it?  Count me in.  I bet it'd even get me laid.
Why This Wouldn't Work:  Ummm, can't think of a reason.

In 1989, the Knicks had a player named Greg Butler.

There he is.
Greg was the last guy off the bench. And the only white guy on the entire team.  He'd NEVER play unless the game was completely out of hand.  But the Knicks fans LOVED him, even though they treated him as if he was a half retarded kid with a back brace, instead of, ya know, one of the top 250 basketball players in the world.  If the Knicks were up by 15 with two minutes left, the "WE WANT BUTLER" chants would rain from the Garden faithful.  When he got off the bench and stripped his warm-ups, it was like the Fourth of July.  And if he scored?  You can only imagine.   Greg Butler was the ultimate novelty.

Now, New York is known for lots of things:  The Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, great pizza, the list goes on and on.  But New York is also known for something else:  its plethora of short Jewish men with less than marginal athletic ability.

And this is where I step in.  Lets make a checklist.

1) Basketball is supposed to be entertaining.
2) The last guy on the bench never plays. All he does is wave a towel and slap hands.  
3) The crowd always loves the last guy on the bench.  They can't get enough of an underdog
4) If you had to compare my basketball skill to one of two things, an NBA player or someone with no limbs, it'd definitely be someone with no limbs. In other words, THE ULTIMATE UNDERDOG.  
5) The Jews need their Jeremy Lin.

So let me be Jeremy Linowitz.

You're telling me the New York faithful wouldn't kill to see a 5'7, 140 pound Jew walk on the court when the game is long out of reach?  Please, they'd chant my name from the rafters starting in the first quarter.  When I'd strip off my warm ups, the crowd would go ballistic.  And you know those promotions that some teams run that gives the crowd free pizza if the home team scores 125 points in a win?  They'd do that every time I hit a three pointer.  And, soon, they'd call me this.




Hell, I'd even wear a yarmulke if I had hair to attach it to.  I'm probably a joke half the time anyway, I might as well get paid for it.

And there are your Monday thoughts!

1 comment:

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