Summer jobs can be dangerous. I mean this both literally and figuratively. For example, let's suppose that your father makes you don steel toe boots and a hard hat when you are 18 years old and throws you on the swing shift at the local steel factory so that you understand from the top of your pretty little head all the way down to your pedicured toes that your life "could be very different.*"
If, say, we do suppose this, then we can also safely suppose that you will spend your summer dodging a myriad of very real dangers in the form of questionably licensed overhead crane operators, unidentifiable red levers on machinery that everyone--you are pretty sure--assumes you can identify, and truckers who inexplicably greet you every single morning with "Hello Little Red Riding Hood, it's the big bad wolf."
Summer jobs can also be figuratively dangerous. There may not be glowing red coils of steel or any other assortment of objects seemingly designed to cut off appendages to tip you off to a figuratively dangerous summer job, but there are other indications, namely that the job is neither lucrative (or paid) nor even remotely related to the vague outline of a career path you sketched for yourself in that one lucid moment you have had since your undergraduate studies regarding what you want to do with your life.
While figuratively dangerous summer jobs can be found in any city in the country, there is doubtlessly a concentration of them in Manhattan. You may (or may not--just go with it, people) be asking yourself how it is that so many reasonably sensible young people with hotshot degrees and Elle Woods ambition get caught up in such jobs in New York? Well, I've got a one word answer for you: GLAM.
GLAM does not discriminate.
GLAM knows no gender, race, or socio-economic class.
GLAM doesn't care that you planned on being a lawyer, a kindergarten teacher, or an accountant with excellent health benefits.
And GLAM really doesn't care that you owe your landlord $2500 next Wednesday.
Tomorrow: work it, girl: glam part two
*Sure is, dad. Now I can add illegal forklift operating to my list of secret talents.
If, say, we do suppose this, then we can also safely suppose that you will spend your summer dodging a myriad of very real dangers in the form of questionably licensed overhead crane operators, unidentifiable red levers on machinery that everyone--you are pretty sure--assumes you can identify, and truckers who inexplicably greet you every single morning with "Hello Little Red Riding Hood, it's the big bad wolf."
Summer jobs can also be figuratively dangerous. There may not be glowing red coils of steel or any other assortment of objects seemingly designed to cut off appendages to tip you off to a figuratively dangerous summer job, but there are other indications, namely that the job is neither lucrative (or paid) nor even remotely related to the vague outline of a career path you sketched for yourself in that one lucid moment you have had since your undergraduate studies regarding what you want to do with your life.
While figuratively dangerous summer jobs can be found in any city in the country, there is doubtlessly a concentration of them in Manhattan. You may (or may not--just go with it, people) be asking yourself how it is that so many reasonably sensible young people with hotshot degrees and Elle Woods ambition get caught up in such jobs in New York? Well, I've got a one word answer for you: GLAM.
GLAM does not discriminate.
GLAM knows no gender, race, or socio-economic class.
GLAM doesn't care that you planned on being a lawyer, a kindergarten teacher, or an accountant with excellent health benefits.
And GLAM really doesn't care that you owe your landlord $2500 next Wednesday.
Tomorrow: work it, girl: glam part two
*Sure is, dad. Now I can add illegal forklift operating to my list of secret talents.
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