Food has become more expensive. Seven percent inflation be dammed – it’s more like twenty or twenty-five percent on food products. We still are eating but at lesser amounts to ease the pain.
When people say going out to a surf and turf dinner will cost an arm and a leg, I disagree. Sure, I could sell a toe or two here or there, but those aren’t as valuable as a whole limb. To put a picture of my toes on Facebook would be repugnant – you probably get it. But some people are into feet that way and I could take advantage of their fetish. Selling an arm and a leg would be counterproductive because there are so many things I’ve needed those arms and legs for, how could I consider selling them over the ever-rising costs of food?
Unless I divided my left arm into sections, wrist worth so much, below the elbow more and of course the most for a full arm. If I did that a personal concern would be having somebody referring to me as, “The one-armed paper hanger.”
Now, you might suggest that I get a parttime job maybe at Walmart to help pay for food. I tried that. They gave me a “Hunt Test.” Find three items within 10 minutes. I found two but took more than 10. I asked if I could try the test again tomorrow – no, they said.
Another way to afford food is to submit oneself to experiments. One I’ve heard about is the Stanford Prison Experiment, but at least you’re making minimum wage while you’re enlisted. What’s a little mental trauma in exchange for a few weeks extra cash.
Unfortunately, I’m too old and married besides to be able to get a sugar momma. I wish I could, but apparently elderly rich women in the Valley aren’t looking for guys like me to eat out for dinners with. They prefer younger macho types, the kind that makes them so proud and glowing for other women to envy.
But when I finally get enough money together to think I can nourish top-dollar meals I usually realize I’m not even close and end up at a fast-food hamburger joint.
I just thought of the zinger crop of raspberries I had two years ago. So many that I had to give away a lot as well as have a few pickers come to keep for themselves. Better still, I could collaborate with Hugli’s Blueberry Ranch who after selling blueberries to their customers, consider coming to Westmeath for raspberries to make a super combination berry dish – that is if they would. I can just picture those extra coins flowing into my cash box.
There are many ways to make money. Using your imagination is one. Years ago the Postman took passengers to Pembroke six days a week leaving at noon. They had to find their own way home though. I could do better by driving them to town late morning and bring them back around 4 o’clock. Lately Dad’s Taxi has here a few times a week so there is potential business.
There would still be plenty of time during the afternoon or in the evening to hang my shingle out with the whole home menu. For instance I could compose a letter – personal or business for anyone, do handwriting analysis, read their auras and even dabble in the occult by reading their future from tarot cards.
Operating a taxi service would be a year-round income. I hope I wouldn’t have to take a special driver’s test. Reversing in my car has become increasingly difficult, sometimes dangerous over the years. To be fully prepared for the test I probably should install a rear-view mirror camera, even though it’s a big hit on my income. But it would be vital in other aspects of driving too.
I feel the taxi income plus berry sales topped up with my-in-home instructions in various issues has me coveting a scrumptious dinner like ones served at the Chateau Laurier. With careful budgeting I may be able to take Sheila with me.
