Dream Job
I think that the best job in the whole world would have to be that of a bong salesman. I mean, think about. You’d never have to worry about what you looked like in the morning. You slept through the alarm and don’t have time to shower? That’s fine, just pull the least-stained shirt out of the pile, pull it over your dreadlocks and spritz it with some patchouli (is that how patchouli works?).
You know it would have to be the most relaxing job on the planet. Usually, working retail entails kissing the ass of belligerent customers who want nothing more than a pair of crocs and to make your life a living hell. But not bong shop customers, oh no. Bong shop customers would have to be the most chillaxed (chillaxedest?) patrons on the planet. Just compliment them on their Tevas and you know you’ll be in good with them.
Working at bong shop would be fun because you’d always get to speak in code! For example, you would get to explain how to load “tobacco” into the “water pipe” or how the vaporizer delivers pure “nicotine” into your lungs without the nasty tar. Plus, I bet it would be pretty easy to score some coke.
I don’t know how great the pay is, but I imagine that if you moved out to the west coast, you could get a pretty decent wage. I’m pretty sure I read in US News & World Report that bong salesperson is one of the highest-paying jobs you can get with a poetry degree. Hell, in California, people get prescriptions for bongs. I’m not sure if medicaid pays for bongs, but if they do, I bet that you’d get some pretty regular income. I’m sure that if you have Humana or Blue Cross/Blue Shield, you have to pay for the first $500 worth of bong before they’ll even chip in. I wonder if Obamacare has a provision for universal bongs. I wonder if they make Obama-shaped bongs.
One of the best things about working at a bong shop would be how easy it is to get presents for your friends. Stoner friend has a birthday coming up? Get him a bong! Are you the best man at a stoner wedding? A two-necked, white floral bong is the perfect gift for the blissful couple. And if you have friends who don’t smoke weed, just put some flowers in a bong and give your friends a tasteful new vase (that hole in the bottom if for adding flower food!).
So ladies and gentlemen, don’t disparage your neighborhood bong merchant. Celebrate him or her. He or she is or are the unsung hero of your neighborhood. They keep your waiters happy; they pacify your postman; they help the principal of your child’s school calm his unnatural urges. So don’t scowl as you pass by the crystal shop out of the back of which they work; greet them! Go and see their performance art! Purchase one of their paintings from the coffee shop! Encourage them to go to grad school and get that MFA in philosophy. They’re people, too: Hard-working, blue collar Americans who deserve your respect. And so bong merchant, we here at Julian Blogdugno salute you!
