After all, the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself, as to see all the other fellows busy working – Kenneth Grahame
My worst fear came true. I became a food service manager after college. Fast food. I remember thinking about this years ago. Thinking about all of these hundreds of thousands of people all over America. Wondering how they do it. How the fuck do they do it?
And then I became one.
How did I end up here? Well. I suppose I had more drinking nights than book nights in college, and I ended up with a heartbreaking 2.93 GPA. If I had gotten a 2.95, I could just put a 3 on my resume, and get some decent interviews, maybe. But.. this.. this 2.93 meant options were limited. I thought about going for a real estate license, but I’ve already met too many annoying broads in that field. I’m dumb because I’m a drunk. They’re just dumb by default, you know? You know what I’m saying? Food service actually seemed like the lesser evil.
About a year out of college, a more intriguing opportunity came my way via an old roommate. He was at one of the AI companies, and said they were looking to hire FREE TIME testers. They figured pretty soon jobs were really going to disappear rather fast, and the government gave them a grant to study how normal people might respond to all the leisure.
It was a quick phone interview with a Mr. Morgan.
I first asked why they don’t just hire Homeless people.
“They’re just different,” he said.
Then, I had to point out that it’s not a great experiment because if everyone really does become unemployed in the future, this lifestyle would become a social norm, not an aberration. He said that’s really clever, but he still had to hire 5 guys in this town.
Was I in or out?
So what’s the deal? The study lasts for 60 days. I’d get 50 bucks a day, paid weekly. I’m supposed to avoid any activity I would consider work. I’m supposed to ask 3 local strangers out on dates, and report how that goes. Report any police contact, also.
As expected, the first week was a very welcome holiday. Basically, I’d get drunk and go to the movies.
How about some exercise? Sure, I can do some jogging. What bliss.
3 weeks in, the company called to remind me that I had to look for a date. And it should be someone I haven’t met yet.
Could be tricky.
I remembered that the library had social events and book readings every other week or so. Here we go. A friendly little thing, it seems. The name’s Sally.
Sally was some kind of social worker. I told her about my little adventure and she gave me a frown.
I said I actually tried to get out of it at the interview, but I also really needed a change. How about Sushi?
Sushi it is.
“So what do you Actually want to do?”
Oh. You mean like.. professionally? For the rest of my life?
“Sure… something like that” says Sally.
I remembered that I always fucking hated these conversations. Am I going to impress her with a lofty goal? Should I err on the side of humility maybe? Let’s try to come up with something honest, and see if that works.
“I guess I wanted to be a lawyer and a judge,” I say. “But the only class I failed in college was Logic. So now.., now I am just lost and confused.”
There’s more to life than logic! You’re young. I’m sure you’ll find something satisfying. You got a favorite book?
Sure, I like Camus. I keep wondering if his “accident” was actually a suicide. He seemed like the type, right?
“As I recall, he wasn’t driving”
Well, I guess you know more than I do. I wasn’t there. Believe half that you see, and nothing you read, right?
“Yeah, I think I heard that one somewhere…”
“Well.. how’s this going so far? You got other plans tonight, or should we go get a drink somewhere?”
I think I do have plans… let’s maybe chat again in a few, okay?
No problem…
So that was Sally. I went to the bar anyway and tried to flirt with the bartender. Maybe I can count that too.
So, the first month went by. It was rather uneventful. I began to feel a little empty, and I began to dread going back to work. Fucking food service. How the hell did I end up here? I don’t think these jobs are going anywhere. People always need to go somewhere where someone’s nice to them. Someone that’s not a goddamn robot. I think that’s what I’ll tell Morgan at the debrief.
I want to grow. I want to have a sense of accomplishment. But how is that going to work? If the same fat fucks are always hungry the next day. On Day 57 I got arrested for peeing in an alley behind a bar. Well, whaddya know… I guess idle hands are the devil’s workshop.

