I’m meeting with my bosses at 4 to see if they want me to keep working at the Times for the next six months. My first half year here is up on March 4th, and in their current system temps get evaluated every six months, at which point they either get renewed for another six months or start sizing up their prospects as a prostitute in Queens. I think I could do well there.
Frankly, I have no idea if I’m gonna get rehired or not. It’s kinda nerve-racking. I know I’ve probably gotten good reviews from a few editors, but who knows what other people might have said. With that in mind, it might be a good idea to examine my options in the event that I’m unemployed come 5 p.m.
One, I could start heading down the aforementioned sex trade road, though it’s fraught with traffic (the kind that ends with a K and an -ing) in the form of angry pimps, dangerous neighborhoods and lady customers who will doubtlessly demand more. Just seems like an exhausting line of work.
Two, I could beg for money on the subway. I feel like I could rake it in if I dirtied myself up a bit. People taking pity on a young adrift soul. Plus, I think over time I’d develop no shame. Being homeless is like being drunk — you get really bold and stop worrying about decorum. Homeless Zach would be all up in people’s faces on the subway, berating them for their social neglect of my poor downtrodden self. I like to think I’d do it in a fun way.
Maybe I could deal drugs. I knew people who dealt drugs in college. I know the lingo. Instead of saying “Hello, would you like to purchase a marijuana cigarette?” you say “Yo, bro, I got mad nugs of that danky dank spliffy spreef, you want in?” And he wants in, you make the transaction and go on your way. I don’t know if I’m cut out for a life of crime, though. I have the violent tendencies of a dormouse and the gang connections of Rick Santorum; clearly, I wouldn’t last long in prison.
However, there is one other option. Yes, I think I’ve figured out my backup plan.
It might be a tad arrogant to say I that would make a FANTASTIC male stripper, but arrogance is a virtue in the bitterly cutthroat field of male stripping.
It’s obvious that I possess many qualities conducive to stripping. I have a huge wingspan, beautiful hair, and I give terrific lap dances. My body could use a bit of a tuneup, but what stripper’s couldn’t? I’m not gonna be hopping into limos with embarrassed male celebrities right from the beginning. That takes time. Time which I have plenty of, because it’s going to take a while to pay down the loans on my calf implants.