It would be quite fair to comment that I have done a bit of everything in my time on earth. Everything from washing machine repair man to fashion guru, I’ve been there, I’ve certainly done that and quite frankly I not only bought the damn t-shirt but procured the whole rack of clothes and displayed them in front of a multi-national crowd full of bigwigs and industry types.
So, what now? Where can someone with my set of skills possibly go except into space? It truly is the final frontier. I don’t know, it seems a bit too final to be shooting myself off into the unknown in the hope of finding a line of employment that could possibly compete with my bustling CV of “endless success”.
Last night I was trying to think about what else I could do, something that was within my grasps on planet earth which would negate the requirement for interstellar space travel (I’ve seen the figures and it is a smidgen too costly for me coppers) and do you know what my best idea was? What surged to the front of my mind to take centre stage, all my attention?
I was going to use my tiny man hands to fix tiny ant vehicles. I would put those years of “experience” fixing washing machines to help our friends, the ants, to get back on the road after serious accidents and engine failures. I’ve got discounts and payment plans set up for regular customers. There’s Bonbon in the back, he’s good with people and ants, and looks after the place when I have to make deliveries. Running a successful garage isn’t just about fixing stuff after all, it’s about customer service, a friendly face and lashings of car air fresheners.
I can’t tell what’s a good idea anymore. I may have finally *finally* gone over the edge in a barrel. That is, unless one of you could suggest something new that I could try?
9 comments on “Job Search”
If you’re going to be an ant mechanic you’re going to need a really good pair of tweezers, and possibly one of those little squinty monocle telescope things that jewellers wear.
I can get them. I could also borrow Kev’s opera glasses because they’re good for looking at things although knowing my luck they’ll be sandwiched underneath some kind of worktop, possibly from a kitchen.
I think Kev’s new kitchen worktop is made entirely from antique opera glasses, pressed together in a big industrial compactor like they use for cars at scrapyards, and then sanded and buffed to a glorious operatic sheen. Unfortunately since he had to order 3.2 miles of it, there’s now an opera glasses shortage affecting most of the western world.
We don’t talk about kitchens.
As an ant mechanic, what would your policy be on fixing up vehicles brought in by other small insect or arachnids? Would you, for example, fix up a badly dented car brought in by a water boatman?
You’re right, to specific which of the insects I can and cannot service (waaaaaay!) would give them the wrong impression. I should be an insect mechanic, therefore send all the water boatmen my way because I’m adding more spoilers to all their vehicles.
I reckon you’d do a very decent trade in selling refurbished jetskis to water boatmen. They’d be going bells on one of those.
I’m disappointed in myself that I didn’t think of it sooner. I’ll get right on it.
That’ll scare the shit out of all those kingfishers.
Kingfishers deserve it. They’re a bunch of dicks, every single one.
I’m so glad that someone else finally agrees with me on this one. I expect Kev will have some arbitrary nonsense reasons why he hates them (“they stole my mother’s teatowel!”) rather than sensible answers.