About fifteen years ago I worked as a dj/barback/dirty work guy at a strip joint out by the airport.
One miserable night I got instructed to mop up some vomit in the mens room. Someone had gotten really sick, really suddenly.
I'd been over the job for some time already, but I dutifully went through the disgusting task of mopping up the puke. While I was doing so a customer entered the bathroom and reacted with disgust.
He started to wash his hands while I continued cleaning and bitching. Finally, having heard my curses and complaints loud and clear he asked me in all sincerity, "Why don't you get another job?"
It was one of those moments that one waits years for. I repressed my smirk, stopped mopping and looked him straight in the eyes.
"What?" I asked. "And give up Show Business?"
One miserable night I got instructed to mop up some vomit in the mens room. Someone had gotten really sick, really suddenly.
I'd been over the job for some time already, but I dutifully went through the disgusting task of mopping up the puke. While I was doing so a customer entered the bathroom and reacted with disgust.
He started to wash his hands while I continued cleaning and bitching. Finally, having heard my curses and complaints loud and clear he asked me in all sincerity, "Why don't you get another job?"
It was one of those moments that one waits years for. I repressed my smirk, stopped mopping and looked him straight in the eyes.
"What?" I asked. "And give up Show Business?"
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Any one of those can still occupy your time.
[Edited on May 02, 2003]