“Will Work for Cheese Logs”

Well, the holidays are barreling around the corner with more momentum and frenzy than a Sarah Palin book-signing event. And they’re almost as scary.

I don’t know about you, but I think I need to get a part-time job to pay for this jolly season. How else am I going to pay for those lousy…er, I mean, lovely cheese logs I’ve got on layaway for my deserving friends?

Unfortunately, the typical holiday sales jobs that pop up this time of year are not an option for me because I have SDD (Sales Deficit Disorder). No matter how much medication I take, I simply cannot utter the sentence “No home should be without a Salad Shooter” without adding “unless the average IQ of its residents is about that of grout.”

So, I checked the classified ads to see what opportunities were available.

Bartender W/ Food Experience Although my bartending skills are limited to getting beer out of the refrigerator, or tapping a hose into a wine box, you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone with more food experience than me. I’ve purchased it, cooked it, cleaned it, eaten it, thrown it, played with it, and smuggled it over the Canadian border. I was once even married to a vegetable.

Dancers Wanted, Top Money I may not be Ginger Rodgers, but I can do all the classics: the Frug, Twist, and Hustle. For those born after the Beatles started using Grecian Formula, those are dances, not cappuccino flavors. I almost called to apply for this job, but my friend, Amada, who actually participates regularly in the real world, rather than sitting around writing about it, informed me that I would have to dance naked. Naked? In December? Do they know what cellulite looks like covered with goose bumps?

Dental Receptionist W/ Front Office Skills Technically, I have been a receptionist ever since I got that partial plate last year, when I started picking up transmissions from Radio Free Quebec. And, although I’m not quite sure what front office skills are, I am sure they must include the ability to smile pleasantly at customers, while scribbling notes in their charts, such as “allergic to anesthetic.”

Director of Unplanned Giving This is the kind of vague and meaningless job title that really appeals to me. What exactly is unplanned giving? Is that another phrase for mugging? And does that director actually participate in the muggings, or spend all day going to meetings to plan and evaluate them?

Lingerie Model/Salesperson If they’re looking for someone to model what lingerie looks like on the average American middle-aged woman who is close personal friends with Ben & Jerry, I’m their woman! My question is: Do I wear my own lingerie, or is it provided for me? Mine tends to feature sagging elastic, and moth holes in unusual, although not erotic, places. But—and this is important—no matter how much the job pays, I don’t do thongs. I know from experience that my self-esteem will plummet below sea level when I stand in front of a mirror draped in what appears to be three strands of linguine.

SuperAmerica Manger Trainee What better way to spend the holidays than dispensing hot dogs and cigarettes, while ducking bullets? And they say you can’t go home again.

And then, right there near the end of the listings was the job.

Death-Care Professionals It is not morbid to consider joining one of the most successful companies in the death-care industry. (Abnormal, morose, and gruesome, perhaps, but not morbid.) Our top counselors earn a very high commission. (Of course, our counselors also have no friends and no social life, and tend to attract small animals with their odor. Many spend their evenings in computer chat rooms pretending to be insurance sales reps and accountants, just so someone will talk to them.) Women do extremely well in this industry, and are encouraged to apply. (After all, women tend to be better criers, and we have a motto in the Death-Care Industry: “If they’re crying, they’re buying.”) Intensive training is provided. (We’ll teach tricks, like how to say “$5,000 coffin” as if it’s an insult, and how to make sure no blood circulates to your hands.)

I dunno. Getting a part-time job through the want ads seems like a lot of work.

Consider the source here, but maybe I’ll just stand out on the freeway with a sign that says: “Will Work for Cheese Logs.”

Bye for now.

Kiss, kiss.

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