March 13, 2010

Fact is Better: My Kitchen Table Would Make More Money Than My Naked Body

Looking for a new job in a shoddy economy is the least fun a girl can have.  After spending hours applying for dozens of jobs, I went to find respite at my mom's house to explain to her my desperate work-related situation and my even more desperate financial situation as a result.

Me: “I need money.”
Mom: “Be patient. God will provide.”
Me: “I know that. But in the mean time, I need money, like NOW. I was thinking about selling some of my stuff. Or performing at Chubby Amateur Night at the strip club.”
Mom: “Do they have one of those?”
Me: “No, but they should. I’d be awesome.”
Mom: “I’m sure you would be, sweetie.”
Me: “Don’t patronize me! The last time I was all unemployed I asked if you’d be okay with me applying at the strip club as a beer tub girl, because the beer tub girls make bank AND get to wear clothing.”
Mom: “Whatever happened with that?”
Me: “There’s a strip club hierarchy.”
Mom: “What?!”
Me: “Yeah, so get this: they told me that every girl at the strip club has to start off as a topless waitress. Then, if they’re good at that they get moved up to the lingerie wearing beer tub girl position. Then they get moved up to the clothes-wearing bartender position. And then if you’re great at that they get to be a stripper. Which is like what these girls strive for. I just wanna be a beer tub girl! I don’t want anything else! But no: everyone starts off as a waitress.”
Mom: “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. A hierarchy at a strip club that both starts with and ends with nakedness?”
Me: “Exactly.
Mom: “You’d probably make more money selling your stuff anyway.”
Me: “You don’t think the boys wanna see mah boobiez?”
Mom: *pause*
Me: “Thanks for that confidence booster. The strip club is hiring an administrative assistant though. I applied for that.”
Mom: “Why? The strippers probably make more money than the office bitch does.”
Me: “Maybe, but really, how cool would it be on my resume some day? ‘Administrative Assistant at a STRIP CLUB. C’mon!”
Mom: *pause* “ . . . You should probably just sell your stuff.”
Me: “Thanks for crushing my dreams.”

True story.

Further proof that fact is better than fiction.