Sometimes I feel like Han Solo. I mean, I think we’d all like to be the cool and detached scoundrel with badass piloting skills (Who you callin’ scruffy looking?). Sure when you were eight years old you wanted to be Luke Skywalker, but then you grew up. More and more though I feel like the Han Solo of my work. It’s like they’re all convinced we’re doing this really great thing. And maybe a few years ago you could’ve convinced me. I believed that the experience was worth it. That it was ok to get crappy raises and be monumentally undertitled. But you know what Princess? I ain’t in this for your rebellion.
Ok? I am here for my reward. As in the almighty American dollar. I need you to pay me before I can continue to grovel for you and pretend tomorrow’s powerpoint is more exciting than the price of coffee or frozen orange juice on the commodity exchange. And speaking of Han Solo’s reward. why is it in a bunch of ammo cans?
My best theory is that in this technologically advanced world where space travel and hyperdrives are the new normal, laser weapons are also older than dirt and somebody had to figure out what to do with all these surplus ammo cans. I mean what do you do when you’re an arms manufacturer and everyone stops using the projectile weapons you’ve been selling for generations? I guess you dump all your useless ammo and convince everyone the cans are the best place to keep your money. That or Han is thinking of travelling to some post-apocalyptic America where everyone’s busy fighting over 9mm rounds and gasoline, mad max style.
So bottom line is I’m not here for your cause. I can no longer convince myself that just because this is a “good thing” or because you need me I’m going to sacrifice all my mental well being, extra time and financial security on your behalf, ok? Because maybe I need to start buying up the post-apocalyptic currency of bullets of gas and build a shack on top of a well in the middle of nowhere. Maybe I need to buy weapons for both zombies and nazis, ok? So I’ll get on board, I’ll back you up Luke Skywalker when you need to show the board members that you’re a “great shot.” But first? I need my motherfucking reward.