Sometimes, when someone asks me what I do for a living, I make something up. Usually, it’s something boring, like data entry, telephone customer service, or prostitution.
I can usually get a feel for when I need to lie – but today while I was at the gym I missed it, probably due to fatigue after having worked out.
I’ve seen the lady many times before, both in the locker room and on the gym floor, and she’s always seemed nice enough. Today, she waited until I was naked, then asked me what I did for a living, and due to oxygen deprivation after a swim I told her I worked set lighting.
She paused, then asked me if there were any way I could get a script to Past Her Prime Starlet.
I tried to explain to her that PHPS would likely not even speak to us dirty toolbelt people, and probably wouldn’t even hit her brakes if she saw one of us in a crosswalk, so my attempting to get a script to her was futile at best and a fast track to the ‘don’t call her to work any more’ category at worst.
She just kept telling me I should help her out, and I kept trying to explain to her that she was, as they say, barking up the wrong tree.
Remind me next time someone asks to tell them I pull cans out of the garbage for a living.