On my way to the bank yesterday, I saw one of those people in a bee costume, holding a giant sign, waving people from the highway in to the parking lot of his automobile lube employer. The sign said something like “buzz right in for an oil change.”

I suddenly felt so unbelievably fortunate not to be that guy. First off, it must have been about two hundred degrees inside that suit. Secondly, not one person turned on the blinker and went in for a lube. So the job must be so boring. And also fatiguing. Humiliating. I wonder how much these folks get paid. In order to do that job? What—fifteen dollars an hour? Twenty? And what kind of desperation would drive a person to be willing to don a bee suit? I have also seen Santa suits (not so hot in those—maybe freezing), bear suits, clown suits—you name it. However, the costume companies must love that job.

Then I thought about other jobs I am so glad I have never had to do. For instance, the Porta Potty emptiers. They must make zillions. Podiatrists. I know they actually make a good living. But shaving corns is pretty hard duty, if you ask me. As a matter of fact, looking into people’s ears can’t be that much fun. And dental hygienists are sainted. I wonder if they ever get nauseous.

I think working in a bakery would be a cruel occupation. First of all, because I would eat all the things. Either that, or I would get sick of all the things, and never enjoy a cruller again. Disaster at either end of the spectrum.

I won’t even discuss gynecologists at this time. Or proctologists, for that matter.

And do you think that flight attendants like serving cokes and pretzels to people? And they always have those angry people who don’t want to sit next to babies. (I did apologize to that mother while disembarking). And my gosh, it can’t be any fun at all to work at the landfill.

I also have a special empathy for janitors, because after forty some years of cleaning bathrooms here at home, I can really feel for those people. There just aren’t enough rubber gloves and pine-scented cleaning products to make that job any easier.

As I consider all of these horrible jobs, I think of what I job I might actually want. There are a few. I would love to be the person who names all the nail polish colors. That seems like a fun job. And the person who gets to be on the public address system at airports or events? I bet it would be fun to just once in awhile insert a little levity: “Mr. Rogers—paging Mr. Rogers—you left a gray cardigan at the security check-in. Please return to claim it.” I would get a kick out of that. Oh, yes, of course: who wouldn’t want to be a professional movie extra? I mean, GEORGE CLOONEY.

Just to see what the rest of the world thinks are really fun jobs, I Googled it. According to expert sources, here are some jobs most people think would be a blast: chocolatier (see bakery, above), cruise ship waitress (wtf?), driving instructor (I would like to know who these patient people are that are saying they want to do this), executive chef (because we all know that there is no stress involved with that), kindergarten teacher (these are people who have not actually begun their student teaching), and get this: COLUMNIST. So I guess I am extremely lucky to have carved out this niche in the weekly blogging biz for myself. One little thing:

There is no salary involved.



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