After deeply pondering my feelings about "the oldest profession," trying to find my place in a world where supposedly "everyone has his / her price," and after rejecting the idea of "two-condomed hand-jobs for male models" as unrealistic and still a little whorey, I've come to the conclusion that the only service I can offer in the way of selling my body is Intense Eye Contact, available in twenty minute increments for $500 per session. The "John" will have a choice of styles for the session: "Kind Sympathy," "True Love," or "Complete Understanding." Why the high price, you ask? Well, I'm a deeply thoughtful person with bright, empathetic eyes that can, when properly trained on the eyes of another, seem to see right through to his soul, or so I've been told by people who were in love with me at the time. If a man will pay a prostitute to pretend to be attracted to him, why couldn't he pay me to pretend to be in love with, fascinated by, or kindred spirits with, him? And isn't that worth much more? If there are men out there who will pay $20 for a pair of used women's underwear, then surely my services should be enough to do the trick. But, just in case, I will throw in a free pair of underwear with each session.

Since I have no musical ability, singing or "busking" on subway platforms is out of the question. However, I've thought of a valuable service I can offer to morning-and-evening rush-hour travelers. I can stand on the platform with a tip-hat at my feet, and announce the day's news to fellow passengers. I wouldn't read the news from another newspaper, but would instead digest Associated Press reports and then condense, write, and memorize my own copy to recite aloud. I would include editorials, special reports, breaking news, and the occasional celebrity interview, if possible. My idea, while charmingly harkening back to the town criers of olden times, would provide a trustworthiness and intimacy not found in any other news outlet, and I envision a future where all news will be delivered this way.

Recently, after having brunch with a friend, while waiting for our check, the friend began to pour ketchup on the few leftover pieces of pancake on his plate. He then shook a large amount of salt and pepper on it, doused it with half-and-half, squeezed a lemon wedge over it, and topped it off with a generous dollop of  french dressing. "How much will you pay me to eat this?" he asked with a smile. I considered the question carefully, and decided that $20 was a fair sum. This gave me an idea: I could feasibly make a good living simply by ingesting unappealing-yet-technically-edible concoctions! I estimated that I could eat approximately twenty vile compounds per day, if they were small, and at a (albeit liberal) rate of $20 per disgusting item, I could make $400 per day! And, as an added bonus, I would be so full from all of the cottage cheese, tobasco sauce, tapioca pudding, etc, that my food expenses would be a thing of the past.

According to press reports, the brouhaha that led to the arrest of rapper Sean "Puffy" or "P.Diddy" Combs all started when a lesser rapper threw a fistful of money in Comb's face. According to the same press reports, this action is "considered an extreme insult in the rap community." So, my new job will be finding the places where rappers hang out, approaching them, and saying something insulting ("You are not a good rapper" or "I don't particularly care for your music") in hopes that they will throw cash at me. I will then grab the cash and stuff it in a bag and run away, rich beyond my wildest dreams.
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