Because of my poverty, I took on a job as an art mover a couple days ago and I can already easily see myself getting fired.

It’s not the work; the work is a snap; you drive a big truck around, you box-up high-end art, you move it someplace else—that’s the job. You don’t even need to be all that strong because you’re putting everything heavy on dollies.

But with the job comes a need for a certain working-class-dude ethos that I don’t possess. It seems, I don’t carry myself in the right way—I don’t yell at the cars when I should; I don’t shut my mouth when I should. I really stick out and I think the dudes hate me. They all look like pretty tough guys, like they could take a punch to the gut pretty well.

Guys in these jobs hold really simple information that you don’t know over you like you’re a dipshit. Something that would take two and a half seconds to learn—say, where the trash goes—if you don’t know it, you’re a dipshit. Also, there are always a lot of tight-ass rules that are held sacred; like don’t ever ask another guy for his box-cutter—you take your own box-cutter out of the toolbox and hold onto it all day, asshole. Right, got it.

Also, the boss will ask me if my dad was in Vietnam an I’ll say, “no, I think he got out on a college deferment” and I’ll immediately know I’ve made some cultural faux pas.

So I’m going to get fired or quit. It’s just a matter of time.

This entry was posted on Thursday, April 13th, 2006 at 6:58 pm and is filed under Dudes with Attitudes.