Writers are the types of people who’ve worked a lot of odd jobs before stumbling upon their true calling. Some of these jobs are odd in the sense of not being regular 9 to 5 work, while others are simply peculiar.
As a writer, I have my own personal list of these types of jobs, some of which were very unusual—or at least offered the kind of off-kilter titles and responsibilities that I found amusing enough to collect for a period of time. (Above left you’ll see me working at my desk, indoors, in my winter coat at an unheated office that shall remain nameless. Obviously, this was not one of my favorite posts.)
For entertainment purposes, here’s a short list of some of the odd jobs I’ve held over the years:
- lingerie copywriter
- library minx
- world’s most literary cam-girl
- seller of Bevo*-emblazoned tchotchkes
- semantics textbook proofreader (the joke being “Let’s not argue semantics!”)
- TA for remedial study-skills course that attempted to teach failing university students the basics of logical reasoning (i.e. why you should examine your sources, and maybe consider having a few that aren’t Crazy Uncle Ted’s Website From Hell)
- stock photography sorter of yawning vs. roaring lions
- co-op bookstore board member & resident cupcake baker
- telephone pollster (I quit after I tired of the firm’s policy of monitoring the exact number of minutes employees spent in the bathroom)
- MTV intern (not nearly as cool as it sounded, even in the late 1990s)
- barista fired after a week for “not having it in [my] blood” (because, really, who doesn’t aspire to a lifetime of blasting out extra-hot lattés for disgruntled customers?)
- wet playground attendant (where wet modifies playground, not attendant)
* For those living outside of Texas’ sphere of sporting influence, meet Bevo (above)
