My response: "Thank you. I find uncommon sense more valuable."
It's true, I don't have the kind of sense that lends itself well to factory work.
I think in order to be successful I would need to be able to concentrate exclusively on the work at hand.
My mind is accustomed to thinking backward and forward as I do everything, the better to improvise as the moment arises.
Factories do not necessarily appreciate improvisation.
I want to go back to substitute teaching, but I need the one steady job to insure that I can make my rent each month.
Last night on our break the t.v. happened to be turned to Pawn Stars, an episode in which a man brings in a gorgeous volume of Milton's Paradise Lost.
On the t.v., he man behind the counter reads a passage.
The general consensus around the break room:
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"That's one badass-lookin' book!"
"The hell he says?!"
"The pictures are cool!"
"What's the point in having something lying around that doesn't make any sense to normal people?"
"I think I want that on my coffee table."
"Yeah, right - your place is so small you wouldn't have room for anything else if you put that in there!"
"Yeah, well it would look cool. I wouldn't understand the damn thing, but it would be worth something."
"I think he just said that someone was getting laid or something."
I felt sad. Not only do I understand it; I could explain it line by line as I read it in such a way that even a small child could understand. It comes naturally to me. Everyone at the factory knows I'm a certified English teacher. I turned from the t.v. and translated, "The author's talking about when Adam gets his hot new wife, and Adam's talking about how gorgeous she is."
I scored points for the topic happening to be vaguely about sex, but I'm a fish out of water and I'm not entirely certain how long I can gasp on the sand.
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