Get A Job…

In the UK, some chick is getting paid to drink champagne and eat cake. No lie. She, I’m assuming it’s a she, goes to wedding fairs to try the champagne and cake. For her efforts, she’s rewarded 50 Euro an hour. In American moola, that’s $56.90 an hour or $113,800 a year. To cocktail. No word on who pays for the Ubers.

I’m a bit chagrined I didn’t know the job existed. I’d be perfect. I’ll adopt an English accent. “Please, sir, may I have some more?”

People contact me about jobs all the time. Offers include social media, pr, marketing, writing business letters, blogs for business and speeches that make other people look good. Never once, talent notwithstanding, has someone offered to pay me to drink beer from a bottle at the dive country bar. I’m a little insulted.

If you can get paid to check out the champs, what else can you get paid for?

How about sleeping? Can we get rewarded to starfish in our own beds sans the 5:30 a.m. alarm. We will take meals in there, watch Real Housewives, chat with the cats, occasionally write, but most income would be based on the ability to book some major shut eye.

Can we collect cash as shoe critics? Like the movie or restaurant kind, informing the public on the good, the bad, the ugly. Our in-depth knowledge can help explain when a kitten heel works and when it definitely does not, why stadium pumps are always a good choice and why girls in hiking boots don’t have dates. Traversing the streets of Old Town snapping photos sans heads would be a public service.

What if we could get paid not to exercise? Who’s with me? Whole classes will form. Sitting down. This one may send us to the top of the Forbes list. It is, after all, about time we clinked glasses to the girls who hate the gym, non? A whole generation accepting of arm jiggle and thighs that touch sounds like the perfect life.

Booking Netflix hours could make a girl a millionaire. The Dolls are united on this one. We’ve had this chat before. Imagine if we could do it together, with a chef and a cocktail server. Life gets better and better when you love what you do.

One more–the actual perfect job. Getting paid to wear dresses. What if, stay with me, say Nordstrom has you come in and try on all the dresses in the store. Instead of cash, you get paid in what you like and what fits you best. I don’t know what it does for Nordstrom but it takes care of our needs.

Although after all that Netflix viewing from bed, eating strawberries and champagne with the Dolls, do we need dresses?

Snap out of it! It’s six in the morning. I need to slather on something for the wrinkles and give my lashes 49 coats, slide on a sheath dress, add a perfect pump and go to work. Someone’s got to pay the bills for all you dreamers. Pfft.

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