I want a job like some other people have jobs. Commentators who make comments. Lenders who make loans. Ticket takers who punch tickets. Middle managers who study spreadsheets. I got aspirations. I wanna be a talking head who gets paid to talk. Forget what I say, forget why I talk. Just wind up me and let me shoot off my mouth.
I wanna process health care insurance forms at the admitting desk of a hospital so sick people have to sit there and wait for treatment. Not because I'm a sadist, mind you. But because I'm a Health Care Worker. I wanna be the guy who handles logistics, who calculates the perfect density of a cardboard box so only half its contents get dinged in transit. I wanna be a videographer. I'll shoot myself hoppin around with my flab bouncin. I want a job like other people have jobs.
I wanna be a marketer and run meetings. With powerpoint and a whiteboard and little bottles of Poland Spring water. I want to deliver Poland Spring water. Then I want to collect the empties and recycle them. I wanna drive a car up and down the city streets with advertising slogans painted on the sides and roof. I wanna run a pet cemetery -- cremate cats, embalm horses, bury dogs. I want to be a night watchman and watch the night, keys jangling from my belt.
I would be a good night watchman. I wouldn't chase the homeless away.
I wanna buy low, sell high, and go to lunch. I wanna be an advisor and dispense advice. Isn't that a dispenser? I wanna write a book about the end of the world, then give lectures with fuzzy slides of pyramids behind me. I wanna be a gossip monger and plaster my puss all over the web in pink. The girls will pay me to be outrageous, dontcha think? I wanna be a musician and write jingles for commercials while composin my real music downstairs in my home studio -- soundtracks for video games. I wanna sell pleasure boats down on the Jersey Shore to people who have never known pleasure. Let 'em bounce around Barnegat Bay in their Sea Rays, boozed up and sunburnt.
I want a real job. Like an analyst who analyzes or an administrator who administrates. I wanna be a lobbyist for the gun industry. I would lobby day and night. Then I could afford that villa in St. Lucia. Or. I know -- I wanna sell real estate. Trophy properties. Stone walls, wrought iron gates. A horse or two just for grins. I need a Range Rover, though, to take my clients around in. Shite.
I want a job like some other people have jobs, but if I can't get a job, maybe I can be a contestant somewhere. Hell, I'll do anything, mister. How about a shoe-shine for a fin, mister. How about writin a blog, big daddy? For free. Whaddya say? Huh, mister?