Monday, 20 December 2010

Careers Advice (Microfiction)

This year I think it's safe to say the quantity of my writing has been quite unpredictable. I hope in general it's improving and that you're still enjoying it. The fiction I'm now posting is getting at least as many views as my opinions on life. Which I have to say I'm quite pleased about as I don't always want to be slagging someone off to find an audience (don't worry there is more of that to follow). So what have I written for you? Well on this occasion it's another dialogue-led piece, and if you have bothered to read this far then dear reader you shall be rewarded - because this is a slightly tweaked segment from my first novel. Yes I'm aware it's taking awhile but it will get there.       

            ‘Well sir, I thought I’d like to be a teacher.’
            ‘Would you indeed, and you're not put off by what you see everyday about the school?’
            ‘No sir.’
            ‘I must admit Toby that teaching at first glance does look like a glamorous and noble profession but it’s not all hot and cold running sixth form girls and all the free refectory food you can eat you know… There’re long hours, endless marking, and the inevitable addictions: nicotine and caffeine mainly. Most teachers find the only way they can get through the day is by lacing their coffee with gin or rum - personally I favour whisky. No it’s not very glamorous at all… I don’t think I could recommend it.’
            ‘Oh… I had kind of set my heart on teaching sir, I hadn’t given much thought to anything else.’
            ‘Well I suggest you do, unless you fancy a life so soul-destroying your wife decides to have an affair with Jones from her accounts office, and finally runs off with Jones from the I.T. department. You return home of an evening to an empty house with nothing more to look forward to than a microwave meal and a pile of marking, then spending the weekend trying to top yourself, off your face on a heady cocktail of Prozac and the supermarket’s own-brand whisky – vile stuff by the way – and if you're feeling flush getting a ten pound blow job from some leathery-faced old prossie who if you’re lucky has remembered to take her teeth out… No Toby, teachings not for you unless you would like to end up divorced, depressed, alcoholic, and sobbing yourself to sleep every night.’ He paused and removed his glasses. ‘Would you like my advice?’
            ‘Very much, sir.’
            ‘Now I’m not advocating prostitution but a good looking young man like yourself should find it possible to earn a good living.’
            ‘A rent boy sir… but sir! I don’t… I mean, I wouldn’t sir…’
            ‘… Now, now, you miss understand me I’m not suggesting for one second that you should start hanging about the local park’s toilets, like some sort of grimy truck driver or down on his luck pop star… I was only going to suggest, escort services, you know providing a service to lonely widows.’
            ‘Widows, sir?’
            ‘Yes, divorcees and business women… that sort of thing.’
            ‘Urm, maybe I should think about University first sir, concentrate on my studies for a few years.’
            ‘Of course Toby, I wasn’t suggesting you should dash out and join an agency today, oh my no.’
Mr Peters replaced his glasses, stood up and with a broad warm smile said,
‘Well I’m glad we’ve had this time to talk Toby, thank you very much for coming in… and remember my door is always open…’
‘Thank you very much sir.’
‘Oh one last thing, would you be so kind as to close the door on your way out. Good lad...’

(c) Lee Auburn 2010

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