You know those stupid career assessment tests you take in high school and college that ask moronic questions about your character traits to determine what career best suits your personality? Since I’m not technical, I don’t like math, I’m an introvert, I like working with little or no supervision (and by little I mean none), and my motivation in life is to be lazy, the tests generally come up with rodeo clown, or park ranger. Since I don’t like people or wearing makeup, rodeo clown is out. I don’t like the outdoors or doing anything, so park ranger is out. I must have subconsciously wanted to get into the career that least suited me, so I would have something to complain about, so here I am in customer service. I get to hear people complain about things all day, take orders from people I don’t like and I get to be Pavlov’s dog to my immortal enemy, The Telephone.
The other day, in assessing my skills, I realized the REAL job I should be doing isn’t a rodeo clown or park ranger. I should be a corporate Ninja. Corporations need someone like me, so here is the process in which my job search for a Corporate Ninja will go.
With my Ninja like skills, I will send CEO’s, Marketing Managers, and Human Resource Managers emails. I will address the need for them to have a Corporate Ninja working for them. The emails I send will come in three mysterious parts, one for each member of the hiring team at the company. It will attract enough of the managers’ attention to make them want to know more(without looking junk maily), but not enough to tell them everything they need to know. They will eventually work together and realize that each one had a piece of the puzzle. They will not be able to resist calling this ninja, who will clearly benefit their company in a way that no one ever has.
Naturally, the next move will come in the form of an interview where they will beg for Ninja Bitter Ben to come in person. I will refuse once, telling them I have other corporations that are going to pay me top dollar for my services. This will cause them to want me to work there even more, and they will offer to double whatever the other companies will pay. They set up a time, I tell them that I will think about it, but they should be ready for me at all times. I then appear at 2:38 pm after I have taken a sufficient nap. I pop in, tell the receptionist that I am here, and wait impatiently for them to come. They appear, breathing heavily, from rushing so quickly to meet me. I hide in the shadows for 3 minutes, pop out and scare them, and flit about, playing hide and seek with them as we make our way to the interview room. They beg me to work for them. I disappear for 10 minutes, utterly confusing them, then appear back, telling them some bogus company secrets that can’t be verified and talk about some obvious inefficiencies.
Their mouths gape wide open, and as fast as they can get the words out, they ask when I can start. I say, “I start when I start. But rest assured that if you aren’t already setting up my benefits and direct deposit, I’m already working for your competitor.” They set me up, I and tell them my jobs duties. I will fight against corporate raiders, I will kill any inefficiencies and slice calls times down to size. I tell them to tell everyone in the company that I am always lurking in the shadows and could be reporting their every move at any moment and I will report to the CEO, all injustices taking place at their job, through a ninja like email every two weeks.
Then I will proceed to sit on the couch, play video games on the 90 inch screen I just bought with my Corporate Ninja salary, and send a cryptic email every two weeks. If they ask why they haven’t noticed my influence around, I tell them I’m performing a Ninja Training Exersize, at this very moment (on my XBox).
Clearly my job assessment was wrong.
Bitter Ninja Ben