9 Chickweed Lane by Brooke McEldowney for May 16, 2007
Transcript:
On the street, people would talk to Edda, and the talk would turn, as talk will, to work. "What do you do?" they would say to her. Edda, with a deep breath drawn from repeated exposure to corrosive platitudes, would reply that she was a dancer. "That sounds like fun!" they would exude, then add, "But, what do you do for a regular job?" Smiling, she would say, "I harvest souls for Satan, and sell memberships to The Parasite of the Month Club." Her retreat was accompanied only by a nagging feeling of guilt that she felt no guilt.