January 21, 2013
If getting old ain't for sissies, either is job hunting
Those of you who are already comfortably retired, or don't need to work, I hate you. Just kidding. I'm jealous.
To be honest, I already have one job, but I am looking for a second job for extra money because at the rate I'm going retirement seems as distant to me as Phoenix is from Singapore. Exactly where is Singapore, anyway?
The hospitality industry can be particularly brutal, focusing more on youth and agility, than experience and wisdom. I had my chance. I was once one of those young things myself, slipping on a tight shirt, pair of jeans, glossing my lips with pink stuff and sauntering in night clubs for work. After two knee surgeries, I don't saunter anymore.
The other day I was interviewed for a job (banquet server as the ship has long sailed for me applying as a sexy cocktail server) at a ritzy Scottsdale golf club. The eighth grader who interviewed me was named Thor.
In this aged photo, my grandma is in the middle. She is still not even married to my grandpa yet. This was taken in a park in Chicago. That's how women used to dress to go to a picnic apparently. Anyway, I am now older than my grandma was in that photo. I didn't tell Thor this. When the brief interviewed ended, he said he'd call. I'm still waiting. Thor is not my hero.
I'm thinking this might be the only job opportunity available to me. I guess I could stop dying my hair (of course I dye my hair) and throw on the little vest and walk around with a smiley face on my back. Now I understand why my journalism professor said all those years ago why writing was better than acting. When we got old and decrepit (my words not his) our appearance wouldn't matter to our readers. When my professor said this I was young and thought, "I'll never get old." I can hear you laughing.
As a writer, we can have wrinkles and sags and fat tummies, but all that really matters are our words on the page, not if we are still young and beautiful. I better get to writing. I'm not ready for standing by a row of shopping cars and saying "Welcome to Walmart" just yet.