Alternative Employment

Considering that tomorrow is Labor Day and that for the better part of six years I've been gainfully underemployed, I thought today's blogpost should be about jobs that in no way would I or should I be allowed to do.  Mind you, this isn't a take on Dirty Jobs, or am I commenting on jobs that I don't want or would never want to do.  These are jobs that, for the public weal, I should not be allowed to attempt.  Brief explanations behind each will clarify.

Chef:  I hate eggs and am allergic to scallops.  As anyone who watches television cooking competitions could tell you, those are the two fallback ingredients in any challenge.  What's more, I have a very heightened capacity for spice and a low tolerance for bland.  I don't like creamy dishes, so something like risotto would result in an epic failure.  For as much as I love to eat, and for as much as I believe I'm competent in the kitchen, having a job cooking for other people is something the CDC and FDA would balk at, correctly.

Artist:  I'm incapable of drawing a stick figure, so the notion that I could do art for commission is laughable. The best I could do would be to imitate Jackson Pollock or an elephant with a brush in its trunk flinging it at a canvas.  Even then, I'd probably miss the canvas more often than not.

Judge:  I know what's being thought:  He's an attorney, why couldn't he be a judge?  For one, I lack the patience to do it.  Second -- and this will dovetail nicely into the next non-job for me -- I'm not exactly the most tactful person.  If nothing else, the fact that I don't even wear a robe around the house should disqualify me from consideration.

Diplomat:  Trust me on this one:  Ain't no way homey is going to be a judge.  Karen, when she reads this, will guffaw and guffaw.  I don't have a diplomatic bone in my body.  I've learned some self-restraint in my dotage, but that's about it.  That I can spell diplomacy is a wonder.

Auto Mechanic:  I don't know the difference between an alternator, a carburetor and a radiator.  I barely know what any of them do.  Other men wax nostalgic for the cars of old and their clean lines and muscled power.  I hope my car gets me where I'm going inexpensively.

Politician:  For one simple reason:  I'm too direct.

Salesman:  I've never had a job in sales.  That should say something as to why this job is on the list.

Actor:  I can't pretend.  It's as simple as that. What's more, I think most of what comes out of Hollywood is crap anyway.

Computer Tech Guy:  That I hate Bill Gates probably disqualifies me already, but it's more than that.  I don't know the difference between a gigabyte and a megabyte and don't know what's bigger.  Clouds are something in the sky or things Georgia O'Keefe painted.  Besides that, my sense of logic in no way corresponds to what these guys do.  And when I hit three keys and something happens to my screen that they can't explain, well, what's the point?

Sports Reporter:  I remember John Schulien explaining that he left sports reporting when he realized he was standing in the shower interviewing eighteen-year-olds about their exploits on the playing field.  Yeah, I like sports.  I just don't think they're as important as these guys make them out to seem.

Sports Agent:  On one level, the creative negotiating would be cool.  But bailing my client out of the drunk tank at 2.30a isn't my idea of being an agent.

Gambler:  My views on gambling are set forth in earlier posts, so I won't belabor the point.  I just see no allure in gambling, either as an avocation or a vocation.

Barber/Hairdresser/Stylist:  No.

(2014) The Truxton Spangler Chronicles