Another day at the office. Like most drones on a Friday afternoon, you’re wasting your time playing on the Internet. Thanks to a mid-level job that requires more presence than productivity.
The smell of slightly burnt coffee and the din of florescent lights is already starting to kill your weekend mojo. This is the time when you usually take a bit of the vodka that’s hidden under the lock and key of a nearby file cabinet, and mix it into whatever drinkable substance strikes your fancy at the soda machine.
You open the drawer and…. huh? Who put some Colt 45 malt liquor in there? Ice cold. Wow.
You pause for a second. Pop it open, and before you know it.
A genie pops out. But this is no ordinary genie….
This is the same exact genie who helped you choose your 20 year sentence.
“Oh God. Don’t tell me you’re going to make me keep another new car for 20 years.” you say in mortal fear of purchasing another Saturn like appliance as a daily commuter.
That genie, who has a remarkable resemblance to a Star Wars actor from the early 1980’s, walks straight up to you and offers two simple words.
You immediately think about the good life. Fun. Challenge. Beauty. Achievement. All the things that are missing from your current line of work. But as the world around you changes in the blink of an eye, you find yourself in the middle of this.
Now you start to really panic, “Genie? You want me to take over a depressing amusement park from the 1980’s? Wasn’t driving a Saturn for 20 years bad enough?”
The genie quickly retorts. “Not quite for you young friend! But yes, I am a bit disappointed by your unexciting choice of vehicle and your line of work. I mean, c’mon! You are an office grunt driving a Saturn instead of a man conquering this world. That’s why I have a mission in mind for you.”
The genie takes a quick swig of his own Colt 45 malt liquor and stares at you with a menacing glare. “I’m going to give you a second chance. This time forget about the car. After realizing you bought a Saturn, I thought that your next wish should involve public transit. Which it kinda does because now you’re going to be a 16 year old working class poor kid from PA.”
You look at yourself in a nearby mirror and quickly see a few things. The paunch is gone. T-shirt. Sneakers. Funny baseball cap. Skinny body. That genie has decided to give you one last chance to make good in this world.
The genie points his finger right at you and says, “Don’t worry about trying to bet your way to becoming a billionaire, because I have already removed all those memories from your mind. What you need to do is find a job you love. And it has to be in the auto industry.”
You think for quite a while. It’s going to be one long ride from the junior year of high school to the job of your dreams. And you have to get this right because if you screw it up, the genie will send you back to the modern day with a lifelong sentence of riding mass transit instead of a car.
We’re talking the underfunded version of mass transit where long waits, bad smells, and long journeys are a part of daily life. In otherwords you will be stuck in the hot, humid hellhole known as Atlanta. Or even worse, Miami.
So what would you like to do for a living? Designer? Mechanical engineer? Automotive Analyst? Journalist? You can be a marketer of all things NASCAR, or even a franchised car dealer if you’re willing to start from the bottom.
That’s another thing. This journey is as much about the path as it is the destination. So think hard and choose with care.