After high school graduation in 1969, in an attempt to defy my father, I took a job as an Aimless Drifter. The hours were good, the pay awful, zero benefits, nothing constructive accomplished except a zig-zag scratch across the United States road map. Somebody had to do it, and I knew he wouldn't. Somebody unafraid of gaining nothing while not trying very hard.
Eventually I worked my way into a position as a Long Lost Son with another family entirely. The homecoming was unforgettable. My new sister was absolutely gorgeous and I got my old room back, the one I never had in the first place. Everybody had missed me terribly. I got everything I wanted.
After graduating from high school a second time, I wandered off and landed a job as a Mannequin in a large New York City department store. It was an agreeable place, though a bit on the boring side, if you know what I mean. Talk about stoic! That position gave me good exposure, fashionable clothes and a good support group, but after awhile I got tired of standing still.
Since I had become accustomed to seeing everything you'd expect to see out the store window on a busy downtown street, it was only natural that I took gainful employment as an Eyewitness. I became an authority on personal identification, received a multitude of courtroom invitations and even participated in the infamous witness relocation program, which turned out to be a good move.
I became the Gay Son of a wealthy business woman. I immediately began coming out of the closet in a big way, celebrating with mom's money and turning the mansion upside down before letting it fall exhausted in a heap at the foot of the bed. Great bennies, too--college included, very little responsibility and lots of drugs, though it wasn't easy listening to lectures about how I let her down, embarrassed her and dragged the family name down the crack of somebody's buttocks.
I got part-time work as a Drunkard, but that was especially difficult because I didn't drink. Nonetheless, I did it anyway, reeling all over the bar, doing a fair imitation of the Blue Angels, arms stretched out like airplane wings, my mouth a blubbering engine. I could only do that for a couple of hours before the usual crash landing.
So it was then I became an Unelected Official, which was a welcome change from being an Elected Unofficial. I got to rub knees with the biggies and swap stories. Plus, an office, an automobile, a house full of quality goods.
Then I took a job as a certified Energy Saver. Sat around all day conserving my strength. Turned down the electric heater, opened the curtain to let the sun in. Saved my breath in a plastic bag. Did less thinking.
That job worked its way into a lucrative Semen Donor dealership which was quite an exciting affair until I simply lost interest. Near the end they couldn't pay me enough to do what I had to do.
Eventually, on top of everything else, I accepted a position as a Born-Again Christian. Though it took awhile to figure out what I was and wasn't supposed to do, once I did, it wasn't too difficult to do one while the other wasn't looking. Outrageous bennies here--all the way to the Top, first class, nonstop and what a pension plan!
So that's where I stand now--in heaven. Any questions?
Gregory Burnham was born and raised in Batavia, Illinois. He graduated from Beloit College, Wisconsin, in 1976. His short stories have appeared in seventy journals and magazines around the U.S. He lives on Vashon Island, WA. The last he heard, there was a job looking for him.
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