I dreamed last night that I was back in high school (a nightmare that haunts many of us, I know.) I still had my tattoo, though. It was career day, or something like it–according to our assembly, (which I skipped, because I was cleaning out my desk, which was inexplicably full of George Orwell books) we had to sign up/apply for three seperate career seminars/tests/things.
Thing was, when I finished clearing out all the old copies of 1984 and other lesser known works* and went out to see this career fair, it was made up entirely of martial arts schools, old kung-fu movie style. “You, too, can have a rewarding career in the Flying Blade Wushu Clan!” “Have you considered what being a Shao-lin monk could do for your future?”
I wound up talking to some very nice monks from the Red Lotus Order, who were all built like sumo wrestlers and told me proudly that their order had suffered the lightest casualties of any clan in the Iraq war, owing to their ability to heal people. (“That’s nice…”) They informed me, rather regretfully, that I would have to gain at least two hundred pounds and take a vow of celibacy to join. I wandered off to greener pastures.
My friend Meuy from high school (most left-brained person I’ve ever known, painfully ethical, went on to become a lawyer, and is probably very, very good at it) was talking to some peculiar fisherman who was setting everyone the test of catching a fish with a human face, using bait and a pair of tongs. I looked at the fish, who had white skin and bulging pink eyes, and wispy orange hair, and went off again.
Eventually I wound up talking to an Irish woman who represented an all female order that fell somewhere between cavaliers and ninjas, who handed me an oddly stumpy sword and we fought briefly. “Okay,” she said, “if you can help me think of a couple of bogles, you’ve passed the first test.” I was confident of my ability to come up with bogles, but she vanished into the women’s restroom with a male friend of mine and I woke up while I was waiting for them to finish screwing in the handicapped stall.
I dunno, I kinda like the idea of a kung fu career fair, really….
*Swear to god I saw “Rebecca of Animal Farm” in there…