This afternoon, in the gorgeous, early spring sunshine, I was walking home from my subway stop in Brooklyn. And as I innocently enjoyed the way the sun bounced along the wind shields of passing cars, my confident stride was interrupted by a dismissive and loud grunt from an old man standing on his front stoop. "You gotta gain at least ten pounds. Then you'd be worth $100 an hour. Maybe even $200," he enthusiastically, and not unkindly, announced as I passed.
Good to know I have an additional option as I contemplate future career moves. An option that includes lots of big meals full of carbohydrates and hours of sitting in front of the T.V. watching reruns of 90210. How come the career counselor at college never mentioned this in one of our many unproductive meetings?
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