Sunday, October 11, 2015
The Interview
I always struggle to make small talk with cab drivers. Well, I guess not always; sometimes I just pretend to be on the phone. But it seems that cab drivers often view me as a good sounding board for their controversial views on race, religion, or class in America. Which makes it hard for me to smile and nod appropriately. If it weren't for my years of training with my habitually off color grandmother, I would be completely lost. Mainly I just try to redirect things to the weather and everyone's health. Cab drivers never seem as interested in discussing the physical failings of various female celebrities as my grandmother always was, however.
A special problem for me is the need to avoid being asked for legal advice. For that reason, I always try to evade the very simple traditional question of "what do you do?" The answer "I work for the state" seems to stop a lot of people in their tracks, perhaps because they're afraid I'm some sort of surly clerk from the Department of Sanitation or something. And it has the benefit of obscuring the legal nature of my employment. But if people ask the follow up question, I'm forced to admit that I work for the Attorney General, though that still leaves open the possibility that I'm a slutty file clerk with a heart of gold. Often people do pin me down as being a lawyer, leading to inevitable questions about people's complicated immigration statuses or the expungement of assuredly bogus shoplifting charges. Of course, the joke's on them, because I know absolutely nothing about any useful form of law.
I always struggle to make small talk with cab drivers. Well, I guess not always; sometimes I just pretend to be on the phone. But it seems that cab drivers often view me as a good sounding board for their controversial views on race, religion, or class in America. Which makes it hard for me to smile and nod appropriately. If it weren't for my years of training with my habitually off color grandmother, I would be completely lost. Mainly I just try to redirect things to the weather and everyone's health. Cab drivers never seem as interested in discussing the physical failings of various female celebrities as my grandmother always was, however.
A special problem for me is the need to avoid being asked for legal advice. For that reason, I always try to evade the very simple traditional question of "what do you do?" The answer "I work for the state" seems to stop a lot of people in their tracks, perhaps because they're afraid I'm some sort of surly clerk from the Department of Sanitation or something. And it has the benefit of obscuring the legal nature of my employment. But if people ask the follow up question, I'm forced to admit that I work for the Attorney General, though that still leaves open the possibility that I'm a slutty file clerk with a heart of gold. Often people do pin me down as being a lawyer, leading to inevitable questions about people's complicated immigration statuses or the expungement of assuredly bogus shoplifting charges. Of course, the joke's on them, because I know absolutely nothing about any useful form of law.
