And then it hit me: I ain’t no hunter, man! I’m a bloody scavenger, a parasite, a leech. The acronyms that govern my waken life as well as my nightmares are not CEO, CFO and VP, but ERP, MFC and JSP. I don’t go for a coffee in an exquisite bar in order to incite a middle-aged, horizontally-challenged, officially dressed boss to take into account the long term development plans provided by my client.
I rot in front of a laptop digging the internet for emails of Jaspers and Ubuntus to convince them to move their ass in 100 meters further in the kingdom of Pipera for some extra 500 euros. My strategy doesn’t employ any extraordinary power of persuasion, nor an exclusive network of Armani dressed people, but the basics of human nature: begging, cheating, stealing, smuggling, imploring, misleading.
PS: as a consolation, one may also say that by scavenger you also mean vulture and that from the mud underlying the human dignity may one day arise the lotus.
That same day when the Linux people will haunt the streets dressed in pink, listening to Britney Spears.
Random Tripping in the Land of Aardvarks
