It is the tragedy of this life that once in a while we have to eke a living! For those of us who are extremely lazy and wouldn’t be bothered to lift a muscle each morning, it is oft a rude awakening after college to find that the next stage of life involves some form of servitude.
Me? Well, I think it is important that one caries out a SWOT analysis before he takes on a job.
Secretaries? Check. Workload? Check. Office near window? Check. Tea girl? Check.
It also helps if your job title is pronounceable. I have met persons calling themselves ‘Ethnomusicologists’ or some tongue twister else…. If all fails, settle for some abbreviations.
Like ‘AUE’. You can then only giggle as people google what that means. Another Useless Employee. After all, don’t we all call our CEO, the Crappy Eternal Optimist?
Whilst some policemen die on the job, there are jobs you can live for.
Take body painting. Or waxing. Or gynaecology. Or farming.
Farming? Oooooh yes. I was fascinated by people who indicated their occupations as PEASANT FARMER and always wanted to be a farmer especially since I was informed that every farmer gets a hoe. And you all know what happens to tea farmers after KTDA pays them their bonus.
Which brings me to Judy. One way to describe someone’s work is by saying what they do not do. Judy has never played rugby but she sure could get a position on that team. Judy is not a flanker or prop. Judy is not a barrister (maybe a solicitor). Judy be pretty woman.
Getting warmer? OK... when I first asked her what she does for a living, a smile smeared itself across her face and she simply whispered: I am a pro.
I asked: A professional what?
Her cell phone rung. ‘Sorry, am with a client’, she answered and hang up.
I frowned. Was she a professional con? She was the potential client, not I. I hoped it was mere phone etiquette. As she held the cell phone, she realized she could answer me quicker. She showed me a text message.
Turns out, she needed legal services and had been referred to me by someone. This Pretty Woman!
I asked: So how is business?
‘The economic crunch has brought us to our knees,’ she said conjuring images of a pun in my head.
‘I need help,’ she continued. ‘Someone made payment to me in kind and not cash’.
‘200 acres of land,’ she said triggering whistle from me and a suppressed Holy Molly.
‘You must be good!’ I teased.
‘Told you I am a pro,’ she said and looking directly in my eyes she added. ‘I hope you aren’t good!’
‘I hear lawyers are either terrific in bed and terrible in court; or terrible in bed and terrific in court’.
‘Just your luck. I don’t play tennis!’
‘Well… I need you to handle the transfer of the property to my name,’ she said.
‘I could refer you to a good property lawyer,’ I offered.
‘You could, but it won’t help me. Am broke…’ her voice faltered. ‘I was hoping you could handle it pro bono. Please.’
Now why didn’t I become a stock broker? I would be gambling away with people’s moneys. Hell... I could be the Government Spokesman and perhaps do a better job whilst at it. I would get the President and First Lady on Oprah. Or I would scribble ‘You’ve been Punk’d’ at the end of each Presidential Press Conference and wave it at journalists.
‘Please!’ she repeated in whisper-mode. ‘I have no money at all! The only thing I could pay you with is this…’ Pause. Dips her hand I her rather expensive handbag and hands me a card.
‘It’s a voucher.’ she replies.
I look at the voucher and laugh. It even has the initials MBS after her name. She must be good to be awarded a Moran of the Burning Spear award. She puts me out of my misery by pointing at the initials and saying: Mind Blowing Sex.
‘I have heard of Judy Boucher… but this… is crazy. Judy Voucher!’
That property transaction took place pro bono (as opposed to pro bone-her). Judy insists the offer still stands and the day I wish to utilize it, I should. I wonder what she has done with a 200 acre farm. I wonder if the farm has a bush. I wonder if she has trimmed the bush. I wonder if it’s ever a wet bush. It should be if it’s irrigated constantly. I wonder if she has built a house with a front lawn. Does she mow the lawn? I only wonder.
I should never have left the seminary. The secretaries were virgins, or so we believed; the workload didn't involve dealing with pleasant farmers like Judy, the view from my window was magnificent and the tea girl... was a pretty woman.