When I was in high school, each zit-bedazzled student underwent a mandatory one-on-one with the guidance counselor, who was bald and terrifying in the way Nikita Khrushchev was bald and terrifying. The counselor asked if I had pondered a career. "Race-car mechanic or drummer for Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass," I responded, which caused him to rap his pencil on the desk, as if trying to break both. "Guess I'll be calling your parents," he replied. But when he reached my mother, she belted out a shopping list of reasons why guidance counselors should hang themselves from lampposts. The matter of my career arose never again. READ MORE ››
-from Car and Driver Blog http://ift.tt/nSHy27
Put the internet to work for you.
No comments:
Post a Comment