Jobs I Think I’d Be Really Great At

Now most people will list my greatest quality as my hair.  But a close second would have to be my modesty.  And being modest means I have to admit that any job I would take I would be great at.  However, there are some jobs I think I’d be really great at.  What are the jobs that I would be really great at?  Well, I’m glad you freakin’ asked!

Mall Kiosk Attendant – Being my own boss is at the top of my list of job requirements right after great pay, benefits, dental, vision, a great snack room, free coffee, and an eleven-hour work week.  And I’ve also always said that if you want anything done right, you might as well do it yourself.  So being a mall kiosk attendant is the best of both worlds.  I’m my own boss and my own employee, which also means I’m simultaneously my favorite boss and employee, so that’s a bonus win-win.  I get to keep up with my own inventory.  I get to interact with people at my leisure.  And there are always a lot of hot girls with little-to-no supervision at the mall, which, in the pickup artist biz, is what they call a “target rich environment.”  So I’d have that going for me.

Toll Booth Operator – Being a toll booth operator shares a lot of the same advantages that being a mall kiosk attendant has.  And I do like working in quaint and close quarters  (the school I used to work at literally set my office up in a utility closet.  No joke, the height of my office was greater than the sum of its length and width.  It was like working in an elevator shaft).  The shorter the interaction with people I have, the better I like it, so taking money or making change to someone who doesn’t even want to stop at my booth to begin with means I’ll be great at moving people along.  I should also mention I’m wicked efficient at repetitive tasks.

Tour Guide – I know a lot of stuff about a lot of places.  And I love to tell people about that stuff.  Not to mention I’m one hell of a leader.  And I look good in a variety of period style hats.  I think tour guide is a slam dunk.  Not to mention that it would get me out of the house.  Historic residence, classic car garage, Civil War battle site, house of wax, Smithsonian, origami museum, I could pretty much handle anything that a tour could throw at me.  And if I happen to end up as some sort of jungle tour guide, I’m well prepared.  I’ve seen Romancing the Stone probably 30 times and I’ve seen Jewel of the Nile twice.  Like I said, slam dunk.

Beauty Pageant Judge – One of the many talents (along with modesty) that I was gifted with is the fervent desire to look at beautiful women and judge them based on a series of competitions focused primarily on superficial criteria.   This is also why I apathetically excel at judging costume contests.  It’s also the reason why Doctor Who never wins a costume contest that I judge.  It’s mostly because I don’t understand Doctor Who and how can I, in good conscience, choose something that I don’t understand?  It’s a rhetorical question, Doctor Who fans.  Don’t try to explain it to me.  And granted, I don’t understand what goes on in Utah, but I can sure tell if a girl from Utah is prettier and answers questions better than 49 other girls.  Actually, now that I think about it, a sexy girl Doctor Who would probably stand a good chance in a costume contest that I’m judging.  Food for thought, Whovians.

Starship Captain – I’m not sure if this is a real job yet, but as soon as it becomes one, I should be on the list of first people to captain a starship.  If there should be anyone responsible for 600,000 metric tons of metal cruising through space exploring planets and romancing beautiful alien women, it should be me.  I’ve seen every episode of Star Trek twice now.  And as long as Netflix keeps them up and I have any shred of free time, I’ll will have seen them all three times by the time this becomes a real job (unless it already is, in which case two times is gonna have to cut it).  I’ve also seen Starship Troopers, Star Wars, and Galaxy Quest, so I’m pretty sure I’ve got Starship Captainry down.  Not to mention that I’m well-liked and I have great hair (and don’t forget my modesty).

Lounge Singer – I’m not that great of a singer, but no one can argue that I’m a very passionate singer.  That makes me perfect for singing in a lounge with drunk people who don’t particularly care about quality so much as they do showmanship.  Not to mention, I look great in a suit.  I will have to find someone who plays a piano because I don’t play the piano very well that great at all.

State Representative – How hard can this job be?  Seriously, I watch a fair amount of C-SPAN and it seems like all you need to be a state representative is a decent suit and the desire to sit in a fancy room and listen to other people talk about stuff only they care about.  I do that all the time now, and my suits are far better than decent.  So I might as well get paid well and get great benefits for all my trouble.

That’s just a start.  I’m sure there are thousands more jobs I’d be really well-suited for.  But my modesty will only permit me to list so many at a time.


About BatDoc

I’m a dynamic figure, often seen scaling buildings and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train and bus stations on lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention and reducing high-traffic areas. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees and write award-winning plays about pastry. I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I make meatloaf. I have been known to woo women with my sensuous and god-like electric air-guitar playing. I can pilot riding lawnmowers up severe inclines with unflagging speed and accuracy and can cook 30-Minute Brownies in 20 minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Brazil. Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon River Basin from a horde of ferocious smaller-than-your-pinky-finger fire ants. When I’m bored, I build full size models of airplanes out of Popsicle sticks. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, I repair TVs and VCRs free of charge. I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Last summer, I toured Wisconsin and Minnesota with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat 400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me. I can hurl coat hangers at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read War and Peace, Moby Dick, and Great Expectations in one day and still had time to repaint the exterior of my house that afternoon. Though not a narc, I have performed several covert operations with the CIA. I can recalibrate and repair gas lines with blinding speed and precision, and I don't require a face mask. I still find time to sleep eight hours a night; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation to Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me. I balance; I weave; I dodge; I frolic; and my bills are all paid. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a jello mold and a toaster oven. I used to breed prize-winning killer dolphins. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, performed open-heart surgery, and have spoken with Elvis. I have been to Area 51 and seen the complex. I enjoy cake and my best friends are Edmund the Penguin and Dr. Narco the Intelligent Thermos. I tied Jose Canseco in home runs last week, and I’m mere words away from completing a New York Times crossword puzzle I started on in 1988. Volumes and volumes of written works have been produced about me, but they were all lost in the fire. I am an extrovert. I’m marginally more popular with feminist than Rush Limbaugh. I don't scrape my vegetables onto my grandmother's plate when no one is looking. Hard as it may be to believe, I have never lost a pole-vaulting competition. I was nowhere near the grassy knoll on November 22, 1963. I’ve never hit a silver-medalist in the knee with a club. I wear sensible clothing, and I did not mastermind Julius Caesar's death. That was Cassius.

Posted on October 23, 2014, in A BatDoc Original, Original Series, Short Essays and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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