Fiddlestone Buckrat and His Many Misadventures
Today I want to be a small, intrepid mouse. A gritty, urban version of Stuart Little. My name would be Fiddlestone Buckrat and I could navigate the sewers of TakeYourPick Metropolis on a dessicated leaf, using a bent, spent Q-Tip as an oar. An ear oar. An either oar.
Yet instead, I lay fallow for most of the day, my dog Fado and I sighing and shifting our weight around the house as the hours passed. I took some tests for another temp agency online today, which constitutes progress of a sort. Time was when you had to physically go into their offices and sit there like a Ficus and use their computers to do the MS Office Suite Dog-and-Pony show, but now they're sending them to you at your home. Which rocks, because my keyboard and I are soul brothers, and I can fly like Icarus without the sunburn while taking the typing test. Plus, having a sleeping Wonderpooch underneath you as you take an Excel exam is worth everything. You won't find that out at Temp O' The Day, Inc. No, sir.
One of the jobs I applied for today was to be a concierge at a local, well-known Bed and Breakfast place in Seattle. They only pay 10 an hour, but I had to. Gee, should I sit in a cubicle and wait for my puppetstrings to untangle, or be the kindly face of the best Inn in Seattle, guiding folks around town and getting them settled in on their vacations?
Fiddlestone Buckrat would be an excellent concierge. He'd park his leaf up against the broken curb right outside of Pike Place Market and escort visiting mouse dignitaries down the gutter currents through Belltown or out to Elliott Bay Books. A slumming Mouse Princess could sigh and lift her petticoats away from styrofoam icebergs as old Fiddlestone bent his muscled paws against the current. She'd lie there in the leaf, eating select cheeses purloined from the back stalls of the Italian Delicatessen, and Fiddlestone would tilt the front leafedge to catch a glimpse of her finery from the water's reflection.
Man, I'm telling you, that's the life.
"So, Steve, what kind of work are you looking for now?"
"Well, I'd like to get on with a creative firm doing project work, but failing that, I'd like to become a Leaf-Sailing Tour Guide Mouse."
"....."
Yet instead, I lay fallow for most of the day, my dog Fado and I sighing and shifting our weight around the house as the hours passed. I took some tests for another temp agency online today, which constitutes progress of a sort. Time was when you had to physically go into their offices and sit there like a Ficus and use their computers to do the MS Office Suite Dog-and-Pony show, but now they're sending them to you at your home. Which rocks, because my keyboard and I are soul brothers, and I can fly like Icarus without the sunburn while taking the typing test. Plus, having a sleeping Wonderpooch underneath you as you take an Excel exam is worth everything. You won't find that out at Temp O' The Day, Inc. No, sir.
One of the jobs I applied for today was to be a concierge at a local, well-known Bed and Breakfast place in Seattle. They only pay 10 an hour, but I had to. Gee, should I sit in a cubicle and wait for my puppetstrings to untangle, or be the kindly face of the best Inn in Seattle, guiding folks around town and getting them settled in on their vacations?
Fiddlestone Buckrat would be an excellent concierge. He'd park his leaf up against the broken curb right outside of Pike Place Market and escort visiting mouse dignitaries down the gutter currents through Belltown or out to Elliott Bay Books. A slumming Mouse Princess could sigh and lift her petticoats away from styrofoam icebergs as old Fiddlestone bent his muscled paws against the current. She'd lie there in the leaf, eating select cheeses purloined from the back stalls of the Italian Delicatessen, and Fiddlestone would tilt the front leafedge to catch a glimpse of her finery from the water's reflection.
Man, I'm telling you, that's the life.
"So, Steve, what kind of work are you looking for now?"
"Well, I'd like to get on with a creative firm doing project work, but failing that, I'd like to become a Leaf-Sailing Tour Guide Mouse."
"....."
posted by Stefush at 6:14 PM
1 Comments:
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