Some say you were dropped on your head as a baby and some say it was a problem in birth. Others say you're just fucking stupid. One kid used to say you just get it from your father, cause he's a dumbshit too. And then he'd say "That's why your mom left you, because you and your dad are so damn stupid."
Whatever the case, you're father is now insisting that you get a job.
You just turned 20 last week and have already been sent out to seek employment. The problem is, no one wants to hire you.
"That's okay," said your father when you told him of this issue. He reached for the phone with a hard stare fixed on you and a sick little smile curling about the corners of his mouth. "You can just work at Ducky Park. I'll call Uncle Jim."
"No! Dad!! I don't want to work at Ducky Park." You had cried out while he dialed the phone.
He stopped dialing and looked up at you. "You need a job, Ricky," He said, looking you square in the face with a mock serious visage. "Uncle Jim is still the manager of Ducky Park."
He nodded his head a bit as he spoke. It annoys the piss out of you when he does that. "Alright, Ricky. I have an idea. You give me one good reason why you shouldn't work at Ducky Park with Uncle Jim and won't make you work there. And you're reason cannot be that you don't want to."
He was playing with your head. You hate it when he uses logic against you. You stood there staring at him for some time, no one speaking a word. Yoe were racking your brain looking for a reason, but nothing came to you except for an intense desire not to work at Ducky Park. He blinked his eyes. The phone started making that buzzing sound that it makes when it's off the hook for too long.
His eye twitched a little and you took a deep breath. "I don't want to work at Ducky Park," you said at last.
Your father hung the phone up smiling a wicked smile. "I said a good reason, Ricky. A good reason." He picked up the phone and started dialing.
"That was a good reason," You mumbled into your chin.
He spun on you. "What did you say?!" There was a wildness in his eyes and a tone in his voice that you dared contradict and you looked away from his fierce gaze.
"Nothing," You said, hands in pockets and avoiding eye contact.
"That's what I though you said," He replied. Then he spoke into the phone; "Yeah hi, Jim? How you doing?"
So now you're walking down the road wearing a stupid duck hat as you make your way to your first day of work. You have been walking for almost half an hour and Duck Park is only a twenty minute drive from your house, so you figure you should be coming up on the place anytime now.
Three and a half hours later you arrive at the front gates of Ducky Park, a giant happy duck staring you down between the ticket booths. You wait in line with the customers an few minutes until the Happy Duck mascot comes up to you and leans in real close.
"Are you the new guy?" He whispers.
"Yes," You reply in a hushed tone.
"Then why the hell are you standing in line?" He asks.
"You have to wait in line to get through the gate." You tell the Happy Duck mascott. You decide that you don't like him.
"You work here, dipshit. You don't wait in line, you just walk through the gate." He says, frustration evident in his tone.
"Hey look, asshole," You say, loud enough for the people around you to take note. "I've been here before. I know the rules."
"Great!" He says with his hands on his hips. "You're gonna be a real joy to work with!"
You're about to point out that if you could just walk through the gate the park wouldn't be able to keep track of who was coming and going, not to mention the money they would lose on ticket sales, when your Unle Jim walks up to you from the gate.
"Ricky?" He says. "Man is that you? I haven't seen you since you were a just a little thing." He put a hand on your shoulder and leads you out of the line towards the gate.
The Happy Duck waves at you. "Take it easy dumb ass!", he calls.
"Right this way." He says to you. "Let me show you the park."
He takes you on a tour of the park, but it's nothing you haven't seen before. You see rides, parlor games, food stands, and restrooms. And then he proposes a very important question to you.
"Where would you like to work in here?" He asks. You stare at him blankly. "Look," he says, "The other kids we hire don't have these kind of options. I'm giving you the choice because you are my nephew. So make a decision.
"You can take tickets at the gate, you seem to have a pretty good understanding of how that works. We can always use people to work the food stands. You can put on a costume and be one of the Ducky Park mascots, we have some rides you can run; it's just pulling a gear. Or you can clean the walkways of trash with those little sweepers.
"What do you think?"
You're not really sure what to think, and you stand there a while thinking on it. You aren't usually given choices like these. "Hurry up, Ricky, we don't have all day."
Hmm...
Whatever the case, you're father is now insisting that you get a job.
You just turned 20 last week and have already been sent out to seek employment. The problem is, no one wants to hire you.
"That's okay," said your father when you told him of this issue. He reached for the phone with a hard stare fixed on you and a sick little smile curling about the corners of his mouth. "You can just work at Ducky Park. I'll call Uncle Jim."
"No! Dad!! I don't want to work at Ducky Park." You had cried out while he dialed the phone.
He stopped dialing and looked up at you. "You need a job, Ricky," He said, looking you square in the face with a mock serious visage. "Uncle Jim is still the manager of Ducky Park."
He nodded his head a bit as he spoke. It annoys the piss out of you when he does that. "Alright, Ricky. I have an idea. You give me one good reason why you shouldn't work at Ducky Park with Uncle Jim and won't make you work there. And you're reason cannot be that you don't want to."
He was playing with your head. You hate it when he uses logic against you. You stood there staring at him for some time, no one speaking a word. Yoe were racking your brain looking for a reason, but nothing came to you except for an intense desire not to work at Ducky Park. He blinked his eyes. The phone started making that buzzing sound that it makes when it's off the hook for too long.
His eye twitched a little and you took a deep breath. "I don't want to work at Ducky Park," you said at last.
Your father hung the phone up smiling a wicked smile. "I said a good reason, Ricky. A good reason." He picked up the phone and started dialing.
"That was a good reason," You mumbled into your chin.
He spun on you. "What did you say?!" There was a wildness in his eyes and a tone in his voice that you dared contradict and you looked away from his fierce gaze.
"Nothing," You said, hands in pockets and avoiding eye contact.
"That's what I though you said," He replied. Then he spoke into the phone; "Yeah hi, Jim? How you doing?"
So now you're walking down the road wearing a stupid duck hat as you make your way to your first day of work. You have been walking for almost half an hour and Duck Park is only a twenty minute drive from your house, so you figure you should be coming up on the place anytime now.
Three and a half hours later you arrive at the front gates of Ducky Park, a giant happy duck staring you down between the ticket booths. You wait in line with the customers an few minutes until the Happy Duck mascot comes up to you and leans in real close.
"Are you the new guy?" He whispers.
"Yes," You reply in a hushed tone.
"Then why the hell are you standing in line?" He asks.
"You have to wait in line to get through the gate." You tell the Happy Duck mascott. You decide that you don't like him.
"You work here, dipshit. You don't wait in line, you just walk through the gate." He says, frustration evident in his tone.
"Hey look, asshole," You say, loud enough for the people around you to take note. "I've been here before. I know the rules."
"Great!" He says with his hands on his hips. "You're gonna be a real joy to work with!"
You're about to point out that if you could just walk through the gate the park wouldn't be able to keep track of who was coming and going, not to mention the money they would lose on ticket sales, when your Unle Jim walks up to you from the gate.
"Ricky?" He says. "Man is that you? I haven't seen you since you were a just a little thing." He put a hand on your shoulder and leads you out of the line towards the gate.
The Happy Duck waves at you. "Take it easy dumb ass!", he calls.
"Right this way." He says to you. "Let me show you the park."
He takes you on a tour of the park, but it's nothing you haven't seen before. You see rides, parlor games, food stands, and restrooms. And then he proposes a very important question to you.
"Where would you like to work in here?" He asks. You stare at him blankly. "Look," he says, "The other kids we hire don't have these kind of options. I'm giving you the choice because you are my nephew. So make a decision.
"You can take tickets at the gate, you seem to have a pretty good understanding of how that works. We can always use people to work the food stands. You can put on a costume and be one of the Ducky Park mascots, we have some rides you can run; it's just pulling a gear. Or you can clean the walkways of trash with those little sweepers.
"What do you think?"
You're not really sure what to think, and you stand there a while thinking on it. You aren't usually given choices like these. "Hurry up, Ricky, we don't have all day."
Hmm...
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- ID: 33622
- Nickname: career path
- Hits: 1,762
