Jobs I think I could do, and do better than the people who have them

It's getting ugly in here (inside my head). I'm starting to think about hostile take-overs in the job world. I have decided that I can do a bunch of jobs better than the people who are doing them now. So, if you're in one of these jobs, I would watch...my...back.


Caltech Informational Tech Support
When my dearest dear was a grad student there, we called them a plethera, myriad and bunch of times. Here's what they do:
"Uh, huh....Uh, huh....Uh, huh...reboot and call back." It is flippin' CALTECH and the computer support team just tells you to give yer computer the Vulcan Nerve Pinch? I can do that. I can EXCEL at that. I can even say that as though it is urgent. "HIT CONTROL ALT DELETE NOW!!!!!! HURRY!!!" That way, it sounds like it might actually be doing something or relate to your problem.


Home Depot Customer Service
Many of you many know of my recent rodent incident...eeeeoooo...shudder...pa-tooey. Here's what you get:
"Yes, can you give me the store number?" Whaaaa?

"Can you tell me what aisle you were in? No, the NUMBER of the aisle you were in?"

"Can you identify the species of mouse?"

"If you were traveling at eight miles per hour going south, and I was going 25 miles per hour going north..."

I can do this. I can do this in intelligible English. I can do this and serve my country, even.
Here's me: "Hey, did the mouse, you or anyone you know have links to Al Qaeda?" Secret shopper, HECK! I could be secret customer service agent.


Post Mortem Plastic Surgeon
Okay, I make this up, but I still think I could do it. So, somebody dies and the loved ones know they wanted to have a face lift, boob lift, whatever, but were never able to afford it. I could do it AFTER DEATH (leave a beautiful corpse, afterall), for cheap.
I have worked with enough Play Dough and bendy toys to get the effect right without all the nasty anesthesia, suture removal, etc. This is my "money maker" idea, so don't take it.


Break-up consultant
Again, I made this up, but wouldn't you hire me to do this? You have three levels of service to chose from:

1) The Gentle Let Down - I show up with a warm drink (coffee, cocoa, milk), some flowers and a song (I'll use some Burt Bacharach song, only change out the words "Love You" with "I've gotta go, but you take care now") and a conciliatory hug.


2) You did me Wrong - I show up (at their place of work) with a broken beer bottle, blacked out teeth, a Loretta Lynn wig, a bandana-print mid-drift, claiming to be "yer cousin from a-way down South" asking, "Why you a-dun this? What with the [baby/VD/kinky habits] you [made/gave/done on] my cousin?"


3) You are a psycho and will be treated as such - A restraining order is delivered (under a silver platter), with a bunch of small animals in cages for the subject to torment (in place of you). Cautionary flyers, with a current photo of your ex, are mysteriously dropped from every tall building in town. Your phone number, IP address, and place of residence are changed. The service culminates with psychological counseling for your repeated bad choices.

Wouldn't you pay for that?


I should be in a think tank for new job creation....or existing job acquisition. Maybe THAT could be my new job.
Someone call Obama.

The Rejection Letter I WANT to Get

Dear Madame,

We received your well-constructed resume.  What a THRILL!!! You picked US to submit that engaging listing of your illustrious career.

While we don't have a position that is nearly good enough for you,  we would like to praise you on some of your achievements:

1) All those years of filing incidious Internal Review Board applications and you haven't off-ed yourself? BRAVA!!

2) We noticed that you have worked with some pretty shady organizations and still haven't been arrested...how DO you do it?  You are an icon of virtue.

3)  Anyone who can show up to a job entitled, "Coordinator of State and Federal Aid and Programmatic Evaluator" every day, deserves a medal.  We couldn't even copy that without having to look back at your resume 3 times.

 

4) World Traveler?  Chain Saw Juggling?  You are not only one of the most well-rounded people we have ever reviewed, but also supercool.

Let's face it, this college doesn't deserve a fine human such as yourself.  What we want to do is pay you to stay home and think good thoughts for us, but payroll is, well, funny about those things.  

Wow!  Thanks again for your application.  Boy, do we wish we had some role for YOU here at our humble workplace.  Good luck and PLEASE know that we wish we were lucky enough to be able to hire you.

Sincerely, 

Human Resources

P.S. We can tell you are super-smokin' hot, just by your font!

How I Rule the World (Along Side You)

Being unemployed makes you question your worth, your place, your Marxist value to the world.  Well, friends, no longer!  I just figured out that I know how to do EVERYTHING!!!!  Actually, most things, but I'm prone to hyperbole.  I have recently learned so much that I feel certain I could rule the world (with you).

Okay, I noticed it happening about 5-7 years ago.  I went to a restaurant.  It was a nice kinda place.  I was smiling and drinking my Kir.  I must admit, sometimes it makes me uncomfortable to get that weird, over-the-top service.  Then, when my meal was as done as it was going to be, I asked to have it "packed up."  The smarmy little snippet, who had practically spooned my meal into my mouth said, "Sure!!" and then walked away without my plate.  Huh?  She came back, dumped a styrofoam clam shell on the table and said, "Here you are!"  WHAT?  "Well, huh.  I guess this is what they do here," I thought.  No, no, friends, this is our inevitable fate.  No more pack-up service for you!

Then, I noticed that my grocery store started letting go of baggers.  I had to put my own stuff on the friggin' belt of consumerism, run down to the end of the thing (so a dangerous pile-up wouldn't happen - you never come back from those) and bag my own stuff.  

I tried to channel my favorite bagger, Sean X (I swear), a man with Downs Syndrome who was a savante at bagging.  I built "the wall" as Sean called it - boxes on the two ends of the bag, other stuff in between the boxes.  I have theme bags: "produce,""pantry" and "depression."  [ That last one is chocolate, ice cream, Tylenol PM, and any kind of liquor your store will sell you - cooking wine, cabernet, Colt 45.]

Then, they started the "self-service" check out.  Not only do I (and you) have to place and bag our own stuff, NOW we have to learn how to use the laser-beamed eye to scan it.  I remember when those first started showing up in grocery stores.  It was all about how it would make our experience better.  I swear to [your God here] it never fails to ring up a bag of peas that I never buy.  There is one, really ticked-off  cashier in the center, rolling their eyes each time I have the "item removed from bagging area" message...and I have that one a lot.  

Then, and this is the moment of shocking, shocking horror, I was asked to participate in my own uterine ultrasound.  Shudder.  Okay, not bad enough that you sexualize the whole thing by putting a creepy condom on it, NOW I have to "place" it?  Why don't I do the magical button pushing, interpret the results, and consult with myself, too?

Okay, I don't wanna hear any complaining about those weird Mongolian or Korean restaurants in which you cook your own food on your table.  You asked for that going in.  I'm just saying that it seems as though we're all headed down a path that puts more on us.  Do we all gain a few new skills?  Sure.  I love to race the person next to me at the self-serve checkout, narrowing my eyes, smirking and nodding to them, knowingly, as if to say, "Oh yeah, I'm scanmaster!"  I enjoy surprisingly my server with an old school leftovers foil swan (now a lost art).  "See? See what I can do, now that you won't?"  When I get an ultrasound now, I run the scanner over my belly, squirting jelly everywhere, waving the wand of terror like a weapon (not sure that's an actual gained skill, but still, there is a power shift).

I do feel that my skills make me a contributing member of society.  (Although my new skills probably mean that someone is now unemployed and NOT contributing, so maybe that doesn't compute.) I'm just scared that we are all going to have to use forklifts to stock the cabinets that we shop from, before we place the items on the belt, from which we scan and bag them.  I'm frightened that, soon, I'll have to do my own dental work, paying for the use of their tools or give myself a mammogram (don't think the self breast exam isn't part of this - its a gateway service).  

[One thing that I would like to remind all those who are asking more of me: do NOT expect the same level of reverence that I had for you previously.  If I can do what you do, then we're peers. Further, I would like you to lower your prices and rates.  If I help, I should get paid.]

Alright, I'm done.  See you on the throne -  that I will be fixing, sitting in and photographing for the press.