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Monday, May 19, 2008

PICTURED, WITH SHARK

“It’s one of those questions, isn’t it.”

“What questions?”

“One of those ones you have to ask everybody.”

“But … you do. Really. It’s just what you do.”

“No you don’t. I don’t have to ask every person I meet, So, what do you do?

“You don’t have to say it like that.”

“How should I say it, then?”

“You can say, What do you do with yourself? or, What do you do for a crust? There are thousands of options, really.”

“Thousands?”

“Well, maybe not thousands, but it give you a chance to have things in common.”

“And when I tell people I hunt endangered sea creatures for a living, well, I’m sure everyone’s been there.”

“No need to be sarky.”

“I’m just saying. What you do for a living is not the be all and end all of who you are.”

“There you go again.”

“There I go again what?”

“I don’t know why you stay in this job if you’ve got such a problem with it.”

I haven’t got a problem with it. It’s other people that seem to have a problem with it.”

“Listen. Ever since we've met, all you’ve done is complain about what you do. The long hours, you’re complaining about. The getting up early. The fish smell underneath your fingers.”

“Alright, so I ask you again, why did you ask me what I do for a job?”

“Just making conversation.”

“Whatever. Do you want me to stun you first, or shall I just slice you open?”

“Whatever’s quicker.”

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