Clint Eastwood meets “Nobody-fucks-with-Dessert-Daddy”

I like reading the Classifieds. Apparently in hack jargon its irreverently called “Hatch-Match-Dispatch”, meaning “Births-Matrimonial-Obituaries”.

Anyway last week I saw this job advert. for a “Jeep driver” in Kuwait. It really made the “fantasy making” machine in the head go into Overdrive. Wouldn’t it be awesome? Driving across the dessert sands from dawn to dusk. Looking at wide expanses from behind a pair of cool shades. With Bedouin headgear to boot. A modern day Lawrence of Arabia sorts.

I would probably drive people from one oilrig to another. A bunch of engineers perhaps. And at the opportune moment, when there is a crisis…something dramatic - like the Computer system controlling the Hydraulics of the rig has gone bust. I’ll make a grand entry and write some nifty piece of code to fix all the trouble. And the bunch of engineers will look at me with awe and reverence, I’ll then let then know in a Clint Eastwood ‘Man with no name’ kind of way that I am an engineer too.

But I’ll stick to my Jeep Driving job. A working class hero sorts, one who is not tempted by the comforts of a white-collar job.

I can almost imagine by self already, driving through the simmering sands with the sun turning the horizon into a blur.

The Bedouin tribes will get to know me of course, as I will be crisscrossing the desserts every day. They will probably give me a nickname or something “The Glimmer man” sorts. Something cool, you know what I mean.

Kids will wave as I drive towards an Oasis, Ill just lower my shades and acknowledge their greeting.

Ill be as cool as one can possibly be.
You know the Clint Eastwood meets “Nobody-fucks-with-Dessert-Daddy” kinds...

Labels: Revolving Doors