I knew it was going to be a bad day when I spilled my 1960's Tupperware glass full of hot coffee down my leg as I was getting into the car this morning. It's days like this that I wish I had applied for my dream job at the pizza place down the street. I was in there for lunch the other day and I saw a hand written sign on the door that said "taking applications for manager." The job would be the best of both worlds -- I would get to finally utilize my MBA and get to do a job I've wanted to do since I was a kid. Ever since I saw my first pizza being made at Bonnie and Clyde's when I was 7 years old, I aways wanted to make pizzas. I could have worked in a pizza parlor during my teenage or young adult years, but I never did. My grandfather said that you only regret the things you didn't do, and I guess he's right.
In the runner-up spot on my list of dream jobs is being a mascot and getting to wear a character outfit. Yes, like the mascots for college and pro sports teams. I'd also take a job as one of the characters at a theme park. I'd like this job for the anonimity. Plus, I would get paid to act silly and fall down.
Another job on my list would be a circus clown. Come to think of it, being a clown is not that different then my current job.
2 comments:
I have two thoughts on this post:
1. When you were 7, it was Shakey's Pizza, not Bonnie & Clyde's.
2. Please don't be a clown, I'm terrified of them.
I apologize for my faux pas. How could I forget Shakey's? That was our family hangout on Sunday nights after church. Grandma and Grandpa would even up up there with us. The little old man sat on the 3 ft. square stage and played the banjo and the player piano would play, and they had a slide projector that would show the words to the songs, and everybody in the place would sing along. It was wholesome, family fun.
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