I got a job last week. I gave the news to both of my parents separately.
After I was told I was hired, I was so stoked that I just had to call home and tell my family. Only my dad was home at the time and this is how the conversation went:
Me: Guess what?!
Me: I got a job!
Dad: What corner?
Me: A good one. I had to fight some bitch for it, but I got it.
Dad: That’s good.
Me: Yeah, it’s a high traffic area.
Dad: Awesome. Good for you, baby. Where are you working?
Then I told dad where I was really working. No, I am not employed as a hooker. I’m really a student assistant for the Aboriginal Centre at my school. I can honestly say that I am pretty darn excited and grateful for the opportunity to work where I will be this semester.
My mom wasn’t home just yet so dad said that he would get her to call me back when she got home. This is how the conversation went when my mom called me a little while later:
Mom: Hey, baby, how’s it going?
Me: It’s going great! I got a job!
Mom: What?! Really?! That bugger. Doing what?
Me: Working at the Aboriginal Centre at my school. Who’s a bugger?
Mom: Your dad. He told me to call you because you were feeling blue.
Me: No. I’m pretty effing excited!
Mom: That’s great, baby. Good job!
Needless to say, I’m excited, my parents are happy for me, and I’m not a hooker.