Would You Do This Job?

Get paid 130k to change a lightbulb

Not me. I can barely change a lightbulb at home. Electricity freaks me out. Even if I triple check that the light switch is off and the circuit breakers are off, I’m still a nervous Nellie. (Remember Nellie from The Little House on the Prairie TV show? She wasn’t nervous. She was mean. And they didn’t have electricity back then.) It’s not just screwing in the darn thing in. I have to take deep breaths before removing the dead bulb from the socket. One time the bulb was stuck— twisted in too tight— and the glass broke! No blood but I was in a panic. This dilemma even stumped hubby Jeffrey who had to Google, “What to do when a light bulb breaks in the socket.” One answer—Stab the leftover glass shards with a potato. Twist potato. We only had purple potatoes in the kitchen; too small (and healthy) for this particular 75-watt broken bulb. With an old rubber dish glove, Jeffrey managed to twist the busted bulb out of its socket. I was so thrilled I promised to light him up later.

I am no damsel in distress. I can hang a picture and curtains like Martha Stewart. In fact, I learned how to find the stud from Martha herself. (Not that stud! Sheesh.)

There are certain household items I relegate to the hubster besides lightbulbs: toilet plunging, lawn mowing, aerating, and seeding... We share the garbage can duties unless we’ve got some bulky items. I avoid lugging the 36lb bag of dog food into the house. I once dragged, the bag tore and instead of cleaning up a floor covered in kibble I let my dog have an early dinner. I’m not as strong as my friend, Diane. She’s a 5’ petite closet weightlifter. She stages and flips houses doing a lot of the bulldozing and heavy lifting. Watch out Chip Gaines. (Are Joanna and Chip passe?) My hypermobility doesn’t care about weight bearing exercises and I am injury-prone. Jeffrey is on board for any household duty. He washes dishes, helps change the bed sheets, does laundry—has an odd way of folding t-shirts though—they fall apart—and recently he’s taken up a “hobby” of Wok cooking.

Afraid of Heights?

I’m neglecting to mention one tiny flaw about this lightbulb changing job. The candidate must climb a 600-meter-high tower.

Here's the article.

I’m not a heights person. If I take a gondola ride (never) I will close my eyes the entire time, missing the view. When our family took a helicopter expedition in Alaska I loved the view, hated on the ‘copter. That loud flying machine became more dangerous to me than the height. Funny how fear prioritizes itself in the subconscious.

I do wonder about Bob the Lightbulb guy. What does his dating profile look like?

“I’m Bob. Some say my smile is incandescent, I’m wired for fun, and love a good filament. If you like my profile, you’re probably an Edison fan. I’d love to connect.”

When he meets a girl at a bar…

“What do you do?” Asks the girl.

Bob smugly rubs a fingernail and says, “I change light bulbs.”

“Oh,” says the girl disappointed.

“At two thousand feet.”

“Huh?”

“I make 130,000 dollars to change one lightbulb.” Bob holds up his index finger to emphasize the number of lightbulbs juxtapose the ridiculous dollar amount.

“Look, bub—”

“It’s Bob.”

“You had an honest face until you opened your mouth.” She walks away.

Bob calls after her. “It’s true. It’s— I change lightbulbs for a living. It’s a dam good gig."

The bartender eyes Bob as he dries a beer mug. “I think you’ve had enough white wine spritzer for tonight.”

“I had one sip.”

“That’s what they all say.”

---

Here are the folks vying for the job—

There’s an old joke—how many Jewish grandmothers does it take to screw in a lightbulb? (Read the answer with a Jewish grandmother New York accent) “None. It’s okay I’ll sit in the dark.”

«And because I love a good sale I’m offering a grande discount if you’d like to be a paid subscriber.»

I love your comments, or, answer these questions:

1. Would you apply?

2. Do you like heights? Electricity?

3. What would your dating profile look like?

4. Where’s Joanna and Chip?