Well, only kind of.
Everyday when I drive to work, down 400 E, right on 500 S, past State Street…I drive by a flower shop. A couple of months ago they put up a “Help Wanted” sign that said, “Earn and Learn.”
This sign gave me hope. It was a beacon of light. This was a place where I could, earn AND learn. If you are not hip to Alison Faulkner trivia, I used to work at a flower shop. I totally have experience. I have also worked on some extremely unsuccessful wedding flowers. I was a shoe in for this job!!! For which they were obviously expecting to hire someone with little or no flower experience. Hence the “Earn and LEARN.”
I would imagine myself waltzing in, putting together a jaw dropping arrangement, you know to prove my skills, and then I would saunter over to the Maverik to get a Diet Coke to allow them some moments of privacy to scream with pleasure over what a gem of a find I was. I would walk back in with my 32 ouncer and they would immediately offer me the job.
But today, as I drove to work, cough, over an hour late…THE SIGN WAS GONE!!! NOW I WILL NEVER HAVE THE JOB!!!!
But Alison, don’t, you, um have a job?
Yes, yes, fine. I have a job. One that pays salary and not hourly. One that requires I have a college degree and that I wear moderately presentable attire. But what if they fire me? What if I get asked to write for a client that I morally object to and I am forced to quit or become a hypocrite? What if I’m PMSing and I have an emotional breakdown in the middle of a meeting with all my bosses and I jump on the conference table and scream, “THIS COPY MONKEY HAS DANCED THEIR LAST DANCE SUCKERS!!!”? (And at that point, I would probably say something far more offensive than suckers.) What if I want to, sigh, earn and learn?
The flower shop gig was my safety. You gotta’ have a safety man! And now I’m walking this tightrope without a net over a gorge of flames. Throw in a couple of dragons and black bears, and THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING.
I was devastated when I saw the “Earn and Learn” sign was taken down. Who is this person they hired? Are they as fun as me? Are they are energetic as me? Do they have a flair for the dramatic and way with the nervous 16-year-old boys like me? Maybe. But i doubt it.
Anyway keep your eyes peeled for “Help Wanted” signs in the greater Salt Lake City area, and send any suggestions for a new safety my way. My period is due soon.