My financial advisor went to no small amount of effort to tell me that a turbocharged LSX-powered Exocet was not an ideal vehicle for pizza delivery, but I couldn’t really understand him because of all the hearing damage I’d picked up over the last week.
I didn’t expect him to break out the flipboard-and-easel and start sketching crude diagrams of me (represented by a stick figure) blowing all my pizza money on R888s (represented by a circle made of dollar signs). It was certainly an effective technique, however, and I began to reassess my position. After all, I’m not a stubborn man, just a mildly stupid one.
Still, what he said had some merit. Other occupations would still allow me to drive the Exocet, but I would get more money in exchange for my time (and let’s be honest, significant physical risk). All I needed to do was change to a job that paid a decent amount of money and didn’t mind me driving an extremely loud, fantastically dangerous car I cobbled together in my garage.
The next day, I began my new job as a school bus driver. Needless to say, the board was extremely excited to be told that I was coming with my own vehicle, although they would have to reimburse me for the extra seatbelts it would take to lash the kids to the exterior of the rollcage.
