Remember the droll signs that used to
get tacked up in storefront businesses and diners? They said things
like, “Our credit manager is Helen Waite. If you want credit, go to
Helen Waite.” Or “You don't have to be crazy to work here, but it
helps.” Side-splitting. But there is such a thing as job-specific
madness. Military commanders can sit around chatting over beer and
pretzels while people are getting maimed and killed on their say-so.
Comics feel compelled to expose their social anxiety defenses to
drunk strangers. And pedal steel players? They deserve their own
chapter in the DSM.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment