Instalment Sixty Two

Walking home I saw a handwritten sign cabled-tied to a phone pole, “Work from home: www.workhomefromhome.com.au.”

As I hate my office and the people in it, I looked up the website and called the number listed.

“Do you have neat hand writing?” the voice asked. I said I did.
“A home to work from?” Also yes.
“Great, job’s yours. We need 1000 Work from home signs everyday.”
“The job is writing the signs advertising the job?” I ask.
“You betcha! We’re expanding; need all the people we can get. Blank cards will be at yours in the morning, leave them out overnight, another 1000 will be there the next day.”

The next morning blanks were there.

I wrote them all and left them out the front.

Next morning, more blanks.

I wrote them all and camped out with them over night.

5AM a car pulled up. “These yours,” the driver yelled pointing at blanks on the passenger seat.

I opened the car door.

“What do you do with them?”

“Stick’em to poles,” he said.

“Why?”

“Answered a job ad – Own your own car? Clean licence?”

“This is futile,” I sigh.

“What do you think a job is mate,” he replies.