Andy Richter offered me a job at a big place with lots of cubicles. I jokingly told him I'd take it if the company would provide me with a medical degree and a brand new suit every morning. It was kind of a pain in the ass though, you know, first I had to ask the giggly old ladies at the front desk to direct me to my new closet and then when I got there I realized I'd forgotten my ID number. By the time I finally got my new suit I realized it didn't fit very well. No biggie, there were racks and racks of perfect gaberdine 40s suits from which to choose. I even had an assistant with brassy, almost greenish swimmers hair and a red smokers face, he looked almost like christmas. A little later I discovered that each suit had a secret note in the pocket that I had written to myself to see if they were really just dry cleaning my old suits which turned out to be the case. Scheisters.
In other news, my mother is now obsessed with backpack style vacuum cleaners. She was testing like 30 styles. One brand was made out of materials so lightweight that it actually floated overhead like a balloon. Plus it was silent. Cool.
Anyway, my favorite part of medical school was the class where Dr. Doctorton taught us how to tell every single patient that "they were really lucky because had they waited ten more minutes to come to the hospital they'd surely be dead and in fact it is a miracle that they are even alive." I always thought that doctors were a little liberal with that information, now I know it's just policy to say that to EVERYONE.
All in all the job was worth it, even though I quit after what, 10 hours tops?
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