One reason someone has seen fit that a multi-national corporation would benefit from regularly giving me money is that I’m able to successfully move websites up the rankings on the Google. This skill is transferable to other jobs, I’m sure, and I’m counting on it as a jumping off point into my new career as a plumber.
To start, I’ve built a decent website for a preliminary plumbing company, with my smiling face next to the title of President, and two entirely photoshopped underlings as my labourers. I’m optimizing the site like the pro that I am, by writing engaging content, creating satisfied testimonials, and developing solid backlinks. Getting to the first page was a cinch, and it didn’t take long to start getting calls from and commissioned by visitors expecting the high level of service my site promises.
So what happens is I show up at a customer’s house, looking all professional in the context, and when I’m left alone with their pipes, I screw around for a bit, pretending I know what I’m doing. Then at the end, the work is admittedly usually garbage, and sometimes they understandably refuse to pay me. But what a laugh! And then the more I’m doing it, the more I start doing a decent enough job. I got a good data plan so I look up videos online and can sometimes half figure out what I’m at. Or the client is too timid to actually withhold payment. I’m learning new skills all the time, getting some money, and before you know it, I’m plumbing the shit out of a bunch of houses. Suddenly I’m a real plumber, phony website be damned.
But you see, having my own business was never the end goal. I’ve always seen myself as more of a background craftsman, and my skill set aligns more with that of the fluffer plumber. Once I advanced my skills enough, I applied to work with a bit of a local legend in the field, Ken “Mick” Mickleby, and he was all about it. I basically open for him by getting to the job site a little early. I warm up the customer by cracking a few timely and customer-specific jokes, and then loosen a few nuts to make sure the stage is set for Mick to work his magic. He strolls in determined, gets right down to it, and in no time at all the house is re-plumbed to perfection.
I’m obviously excited to be such a major part of Mick’s team, and I also know enough to know he’s been at it long enough to no longer find it that exciting. So I give him his space, and don’t force the conversation, which he respects. After a few too many well whiskeys, he gets outwardly curious, mentioning what a well-oiled assistant I am, almost getting to the point of complimenting my social awareness but instead passing out, slumped over. And only then do I complete my secret main goal from the beginning and take a picture of the two of us – best co-workers, best plumbers, and best friends.