A change is as good as a rest, as they say, and who the hell am I to argue with “them”? After seven years of working for the same company it is clearly time to look at taking the middleman right out of the financial equation entirely and start earning directly from the source. That is why I’ve just purchased a reliable car. That is why this year, ladies and gentlemen, I have decided to become my own boss.
It’s not that I particularly detest my job at present - sure the internal politics are downright bizarre and the money’s crap, but it’s not exactly ball-breaking work. What concerns me is that industry, in general, is evaporating from this country, and I swear I can almost smell another recession just around the corner.
The culprit is, of course, the abundance of cheap labour overseas. Why pay a fat white guy a hundred quid to do something dull when you can get a skinny little brown dude to do it twice as fast for a fraction of the cost? It makes good business sense to the shareholder perhaps, but when there’s no economy left who the hell does your company sell its products to?
Maybe it’s the onset of my midlife crisis, but as I fast approach halfway through this gig, I reckon there’s gonna be pretty much nothing in the pension fund for me at 65. In fact chances are - if I keep travelling down the path that I’m currently on - I’ll be working well into my 70s (if I haven’t killed myself first, of course).
No way, Jose. Time for a rethink, methinks.
There are cleverer ways to earn a living, as many of the tradesmen in my local boozer will testify. And they’re all freaking loaded; and they don’t take shit from no-one; and, best of all, they don’t have to answer to a boss.
It takes balls of steel to run your own company, so why the hell not? There’s not many people with balls of steel in this world, so I guess it’s time I became a member of another minority.
“And what is this business venture to be?” I hear you cry.
Well, one has to look at one’s skills, the current environment and the present technological and political climate to determine what is lacking in the community. I live in a relatively small city where virtually everyone has broadband and almost nobody has brains. Sure, there’s a couple of computer shops in town, but no-one will drive out to your house, diagnose your fault and repair your PC on the spot. If it can’t be repaired right away then I’ll offer to order the necessary parts and fit them for a price.
“PC Doctor” baby. That’s me. A big goddamned grin and always delighted to make house calls.
Computer all fucked up with spyware, viruses and weird shit? Then call the Doc! I’ll be there quick as a flash, and if I can’t remove the bugs, I’ll wipe your hard drive clean and give you a fresh install.
And if the business doesn’t kick off as well as I think then maybe I’ll install burglar alarms as a side line. As the country slips into recession, crime is bound to rise resulting in fear for one’s personal shit.
Is your neighbourhood turning into a war zone? Who ya gonna call?
I’ll be like Harry Tuttle in Terry Gilliam’s Brazil.
Yes, I’m slightly insane. Yes, I’m a freaking dreamer. But yes, I’m gonna start my own business, quit working for the man, and make an honest buck I can be proud of.
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