I was sitting in the International Office waiting for the Imigration Advisor to help me get something out of Social Security when I met Rick Chatterjee again. I had gone to high school with Rick and we had looked in on each other from time to time to recall old jokes with renewed malice.
"Hi Rick. Making the leap huh?," I enquired warmly. Rick was graduating this semester and I figured he was here to complete work authorization documentation.
"Yeah!" he smiled broadly.
He was clearly willing to discuss the matter further and I had about fifteen minutes to kill. The International office was swarming with guys like me from India, Paskistan, Philippines, China, Korea and Malaysia holding pink sheets. Rick was an engineering grad student and managed to make good grades even in grad school. "So what kinda sinecure have you hooked there? Novanova Tech, Freebie Broadband?" I asked him.
"No, none of the usual stuff. Besides those guys want me to go back to India and get a job there. But I hate the crowded roads now. It's been six years out of the heat and humidity and I don't think I can re-acclimatize myself".
"But why? What happened to the jobs here? I thought the economy was moving up and Nasdaq has finally been purged of all the evil geniuses who thought that they could live in Malibu beachhouses on shareholder money collected with the promise of selling eyeballs. " I asked.
"I've got a better plan, I will go and sign up for reality TV. I think there is a lot of money there."
"But don't you have to look good for that? Or otherwise be big fat and obnoxious?"
"Not anymore. They have this apprentice show where you get to work with Warren Buffet if you manage to backstab, lie, foment intrigue, cheat and sleep with the judges better than the rest. It's really different from the other reality TV shows - you get to foment intrigue against both the girls and the guys."
"Are you game for all that show?" I asked.
"I missed the gravy train for the Apprentice. Too unsentimental for American Idol. And I don't make the cut for Forever Eden. Hell, I am too average for Average Joe even, and they'd never take an Indian on a relationship show anyways."
"So what's left? You could weep on Oprah, but you need to be a cross-dressing cancer survivor to make it."
"To hell with that, I going to take a shot at becoming the leader of the free world."
"Are you crazy? They'd never take you at Wal-Mart!" I protested.
"I'm gonna be the President of the US of A buddy. I've got the college education, the right attitude, a heart for the people. All I need to work on is that smile." At this point he started leering gruesomely at everyone around and the girls across the corridor froze in their chairs.
I immediately decided to strike him off my list of friends, acquaintances and family who deserve cards on New Years. I sanely observed that you can't become the Prez. you ain't born in the USA.
"Bruce Springsteen can go self-procreate" he charged back. "It's all right here", he said brandishing his pink form. There is this show on TV called American Candidate, and its a reality show where they..." He was positively ebullient by now.
"But Rick you aren't a war-hero, and you've never been to Yale or Harvard. All you've won is the grad-school spelling bee."
"But I can spell, right? That's a lot more than many of the rest can do."
"But don't you need to be naturalized at least?"
"Why do you think I am at the International Office?"
"Hi Rick. Making the leap huh?," I enquired warmly. Rick was graduating this semester and I figured he was here to complete work authorization documentation.
"Yeah!" he smiled broadly.
He was clearly willing to discuss the matter further and I had about fifteen minutes to kill. The International office was swarming with guys like me from India, Paskistan, Philippines, China, Korea and Malaysia holding pink sheets. Rick was an engineering grad student and managed to make good grades even in grad school. "So what kinda sinecure have you hooked there? Novanova Tech, Freebie Broadband?" I asked him.
"No, none of the usual stuff. Besides those guys want me to go back to India and get a job there. But I hate the crowded roads now. It's been six years out of the heat and humidity and I don't think I can re-acclimatize myself".
"But why? What happened to the jobs here? I thought the economy was moving up and Nasdaq has finally been purged of all the evil geniuses who thought that they could live in Malibu beachhouses on shareholder money collected with the promise of selling eyeballs. " I asked.
"I've got a better plan, I will go and sign up for reality TV. I think there is a lot of money there."
"But don't you have to look good for that? Or otherwise be big fat and obnoxious?"
"Not anymore. They have this apprentice show where you get to work with Warren Buffet if you manage to backstab, lie, foment intrigue, cheat and sleep with the judges better than the rest. It's really different from the other reality TV shows - you get to foment intrigue against both the girls and the guys."
"Are you game for all that show?" I asked.
"I missed the gravy train for the Apprentice. Too unsentimental for American Idol. And I don't make the cut for Forever Eden. Hell, I am too average for Average Joe even, and they'd never take an Indian on a relationship show anyways."
"So what's left? You could weep on Oprah, but you need to be a cross-dressing cancer survivor to make it."
"To hell with that, I going to take a shot at becoming the leader of the free world."
"Are you crazy? They'd never take you at Wal-Mart!" I protested.
"I'm gonna be the President of the US of A buddy. I've got the college education, the right attitude, a heart for the people. All I need to work on is that smile." At this point he started leering gruesomely at everyone around and the girls across the corridor froze in their chairs.
I immediately decided to strike him off my list of friends, acquaintances and family who deserve cards on New Years. I sanely observed that you can't become the Prez. you ain't born in the USA.
"Bruce Springsteen can go self-procreate" he charged back. "It's all right here", he said brandishing his pink form. There is this show on TV called American Candidate, and its a reality show where they..." He was positively ebullient by now.
"But Rick you aren't a war-hero, and you've never been to Yale or Harvard. All you've won is the grad-school spelling bee."
"But I can spell, right? That's a lot more than many of the rest can do."
"But don't you need to be naturalized at least?"
"Why do you think I am at the International Office?"
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