I once met a talkative stranger in his 60’s who spoke in beautiful hepster slang. He said he was usually in bed by “jazz noon” (meaning midnight) and referred to a musician getting his “head cut off” (meaning kicked out of a band.) His speech somehowmanaged to feel natural and unpretentious. I asked him, “So, what do you do?” He jumped back and snapped, “Don’t ask me that, man! That’s the world’s squarest question!”
I’m often asked the world’s squarest question. I’ve learned a few socially appropriate ways to answer, but I don’t find them inspiring. I would love to answer by telling of the accomplishments and activities I care about most. But I’ve found that one is not supposed to identify himself as an interior decorator simply because he loves decorating his apartment.
When I’m forced to compile a professional resume, I emotionally prepare by first writing an unprofessional resume.