Find a job ad in the paper.  Write about your life if you had that job.


I’m imagining myself as a part time limo driver from an ad on Craigslist.

I suppose I would report to my mobile office every day in a dark suit, tie, and my hair pulled back into a neat bun at the base of my neck. I would be hot in the summer. Stuffy and uncomfortable from the starched, buttoned-up white collar shirt.

I would start my day with coffee, or a greasy egg and cheese sandwich from the bodega on the corner. For some reason, I picture myself in this sedentary position with a few extra pounds, and always in a hurry. I would sit in traffic, and develop a knack for road rage, rushing to pick up my clients from houses or apartments on quiet blocks in Midtown, the Upper East Side, or the West Village.

Once I caught sight of my new passenger saying goodbye to their doorman, and heading for my limo, I’d turn on the forced charm. Smiling and eager, as if I’d just taken a full shot of Sunshine. I would help them with their bags, and give a chipper, “Good Morning,” or “Good Afternoon.”

On the way to the airport, or to the train station, I would offer a little small talk, chatting about the events I’d just seen on the front page of the paper. I would be pleasant and helpful, hoping for a generous tip. I imagine I would get tired of this life. Dashing off to cater to different personalities would eventually wear me down, but it’s a clearly job I need. Maybe I have a family, or a mortgage. Maybe I’m retired, or getting back on my feet.

We would arrive at our destination, and I’d hop out again, grab their luggage and wish them well. Then ease back into the front seat, and force my way through traffic again. Making my way to the next destination.


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