Say hello to Greenpeace’s newest employee.

Now I know what a lot of you are thinking when I say Greenpeace. And yes, I might have joined ranks with pseudo-militant hippies and enviro-freaks for the pussy, but that was absolutely not my primary reason. In my outrageous search for a summer job, I applied to be an office supplies cashier, a front desk manager at a hotel, a substitute teacher (I have absolutely no credentials for such a position), and a retail salesman. I was turned down from virtually all of them.

Really Office Depot, you don’t think a student from an Ivy League school could maybe spruce up your sales staff a little? Or Excel Motels, maybe my proficiency at speaking the English language could have brought a much sought-after skill set to your front desk staff which seems to be composed almost entirely of Filipinos and middle-aged Mexican mothers?

So, it came down to two jobs: Greenpeace and a children’s clothing store. Quick note: I don’t care about the environment and I hate children. The pros and cons were carefully weighed.

Working for Greenpeace would mean a lot more work but a lot more pay. However, will twelve dollars an hour replace the dignity of having to beg for six hours a day? Excuse me ma’am, do you have a couple of minutes to help me save the world? Also, please give me your credit card number in the street so we can keep sending out boats to the G8 summit to be run over. Thanks a bunch, you’re really doing a lot to help save the environment.


Money makes the world go ’round. Recycle your bills with Greenpeace!

On the other hand, a position at the local children’s clothing store would mean a) having to work with stupid half-people who can’t yet communicate clearly and b) curbing my cursing and general rowdiness around the workplace. But it’s air-conditioned. And if you’ve ever worked on the streets of Chicago in ninety-degree weather for more than ten minutes you’ll know why that makes a huge difference.

Unfortunately for Greenpeace, I’m kind of a mercenary, which means I’ll ask people to sign up for a newsletter about cock piercings if you pay me enough. And you know what, after working three days trolling the streets for environmentally friendly and like-minded people (and naïve people who don’t fear handing out all the information necessary for identity theft to some random guy on the street) I have to admit I think I made the right choice. Not because I’m doing my part to help make the earth a better place to live, but for all the crazy fucking people I meet. This black guy is unintentionally the funniest person working at Greenpeace. After training with him for five minutes he started expounding on the woes of living in Chicago.

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“No one understands me, mang.”

“Whatever do you mean,” I asked politely.

“People don’t understand my interests,” came the answer in a slow drawl that stereotypes black people.

Which begged the question, what interests were these?

“Man, I wanna learn to SALSA.” If you were to type the way he talked, the word would be bold, in italics, and 93-point font. Oh, right… close enough.

Anyway, in just three days of working for Greenpeace I…

accidentally tried to sign up a retarded person. She didn’t look retarded from far away, but up close her eyes were empty and, you guessed it, retarded.

made friends with three lesbian couples. I love lesbians, and they love me. You can tell me that girls can hold hands and just be friends, but like Stiffler in American Pie 2, I know in my heart they make out with each other in their spare time.

got a huge black woman to stop and talk to me by saying, “I’m as charming as I am good-looking.” For some reason I have a lot of luck with black women. I specifically target fat ones figuring they would want a reason to stop moving.

struck up a conversation with a woman outside of McDonald’s, ran through my bit and then after a minute asked her, “Does this sound like something you’d support?” She replied, “No, but I’ll listen.” I laughed and found that bit of honesty was the most refreshing part of the day. It almost made up for not showering in more than 12 hours.

saw the girl with the skinniest face I have ever seen in my life. I’m not kidding when I say her face was literally no more than 4-5 inches across, and at least a foot long. From far away I saw her and swore that it was just that she was a block and a half away. As she came closer and closer, nothing changed about the proportion of her face. I was appalled and fascinated at the same time; she looked like she had been squeezed through a hose. I stopped her so I could examine her up close.

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saw a really old man walking and wished him a good day because I figured he wouldn’t have many left. He was fucking old. He stopped and we talked a bit about global warming and how he didn’t believe it was real. He told me he was 92. I told him it was a problem that wouldn’t affect our generation, but would affect our children’s generation and their children’s generation. He retorted by mumbling, “I don’t have children so it don’t matter.” Again, refreshing.

met a bunch of pissants and rugmunchers who think that the proper response to, “How’d you like to save the world today, sir?” is “I like pot too much,” “I hate Greenpeace,” and “I’m a Republican; I don’t care about the Earth.” I’m not politically active but I hate ignorant people way more than I care about the planet.

gave my number to two girls, both named Alice, which just goes to show you that coincidences are stupid and mean nothing. And also that people named Alice will never call you back. This has yet to be confirmed but I’m fairly certain it’s true.

saw a woman with one eye. Of course I asked her to sign up.

This might be the funniest job ever, and begging aside, I’m having a lot of fun. So if you’re stopped by an Asian guy wearing a Greenpeace shirt, stop and chat.

He’s as charming as he is good-looking.

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