I already find it numbing when a person says I look like someone they know or have seen somewhere. But recently, what’s giving me the electric shock deals something more than this exceptionally generic face of mine. It is other people’s assumption of what my profession really is based on this exceptionally generic face of mine. And here’s a bunch of jobs (as far as I can remember) that I have rounded up from the late 2010 to this date.
Writer
I always denied being one. I enjoy the act but I feel queasy toying with that identity. I know my flaws so I keep myself away from that word. But since I am working in a company where, well, I write (or connect words to form) newsletters—and I have a goatee, a mustache, long hair, and a pair of piercings—everyone says I am this, and there goes the logic of the title.
Fashion Designer
When the previous job title of mine (supposedly) has already been embedded in almost every head in the office (yeah, thanks to word of mouth), a woman about my age sits beside me one day and asserts “Mas mukha ka pang fashion designer.” There is no humor in her voice. That’s job number two.
Call Center Agent
All ready for my daily commute to work early in the morning, next-door lady neighbor chances upon me leaving the house and sweetly asks, “Saang agency ka nagtatrabaho?” But of course! Call center agents wear dark blue slacks, black leather shoes, and sky blue kusot mayaman barong in their offices, right? “No. I work in a food company,” I respond and leave her by the gates with a smile.
Musician
Since the neighborhood in the past few days has gotten a little bit chatty, I give in and mingle to one. Predictably, conversation falls into the work category and asks me what I do for a living. I fire out the usual one-two punch of my job description, feeling happy because she is smiling of the things that I do, when she laughs and says: “Akala ko musikero ka!” I stop my monologue. At least there’s talent in being one.
Writer
I always denied being one. I enjoy the act but I feel queasy toying with that identity. I know my flaws so I keep myself away from that word. But since I am working in a company where, well, I write (or connect words to form) newsletters—and I have a goatee, a mustache, long hair, and a pair of piercings—everyone says I am this, and there goes the logic of the title.
Fashion Designer
When the previous job title of mine (supposedly) has already been embedded in almost every head in the office (yeah, thanks to word of mouth), a woman about my age sits beside me one day and asserts “Mas mukha ka pang fashion designer.” There is no humor in her voice. That’s job number two.
Call Center Agent
All ready for my daily commute to work early in the morning, next-door lady neighbor chances upon me leaving the house and sweetly asks, “Saang agency ka nagtatrabaho?” But of course! Call center agents wear dark blue slacks, black leather shoes, and sky blue kusot mayaman barong in their offices, right? “No. I work in a food company,” I respond and leave her by the gates with a smile.
Musician
Since the neighborhood in the past few days has gotten a little bit chatty, I give in and mingle to one. Predictably, conversation falls into the work category and asks me what I do for a living. I fire out the usual one-two punch of my job description, feeling happy because she is smiling of the things that I do, when she laughs and says: “Akala ko musikero ka!” I stop my monologue. At least there’s talent in being one.
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