So what could be worse than no job? I mean, it's not like being unemployed is really that unusual, right? After all, 9% of the population is unemployed, so there's plenty of company. Well, I'm thinking this job... It's like being a caterer. Only...not so much. It's like being a restaraunteur. Only....not quite. Let's call them "street vendors," even though that has a certain je ne sais quoi quality that I'm not sure is entirely appropriate.
Okay, let's be clear here. You sell hot dogs at a ball park? Good for you. That's an American institution. You sell hot dogs at the summer carnival? Hey, that's a bit of Americana right there. You sell hot dogs at your kids little league game? Parent of the year. You stand on some random street corner peddling tube steak that's been marinating in a vat of who-knows-what for who-knows-how-long? Not so much.
There's something that's not quite right about having to fish bits of mystery meat out of a reeking pot of tepid water on wheels with a pair of tongs while some homeless man stands there waiting with his buck-two-fifty in nickels for his meal of the day.
Now I hear you can actually make good money being a street vendor. You get to stand outside all day and enjoy the weather. You get a pretty umbrella and an apron. Still....your hawking hot dogs to passersby who probably only buy them because they think if they don't, you'll start dealing drugs. And maybe you should. Because if you're selling heroin, you're at least selling something of value that somebody really, really, really wants.
I think I'd rather have my arm shoulder deep in a cow's uterus than be a street vendor. Oh darn, now I spoiled the surprise for my next post...
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