Just what you need when you're having a low job satisfaction day...

I wrote my friend Russ today about my Low Job Satisfaction (a temporary condition). I want to throw in the towel and go hitch-hiking in Europe. He's a genius. Here's what he wrote back:

I understand the job satisfaction issues. Look at it this way, let's suppose you went hitchhiking in Europe. At some point, you would sit down on some bench in France and look around you. And it would all hit you at once...
"Wait a minute. Everywhere I go, there's nothing but old buildings made out of old gray stone. Old gray stone here...old gray stone there. Old fountains not able to shoot water 100 feet in the air synchronized to music. Old churches not tolerant of Betsy (friend #1) and Lindsay's (friend #1's former girlfriend) lifestyle. Old art that's not even painted on bridge overpasses for everyone to see. Old people talking old languages that don't get your hip urban slang. Old gray cobblestone streets too narrow for shiny new SUVs. F Europe! And another thing...why the hell am I lugging all my crap around on my back to see all this old gray stuff? There are perfectly good car services at home to drive me and my crap wherever I want. And where are the Puerto Rican parades? I can't even get a damn hot dog or a hot pretzel from a cart around here! All this stinky European cheese has me constipated, and there's no Thai restaurant on every corner to help get things moving again. Where the hell are the knock-off handbags and sunglasses? I'm not paying four hundred Euros for a real Prada bag! What are you looking at Frenchie? I can talk out loud all I want! Go take a shower! And tell your girlfriend to shave her legs! She looks like a damn man. What? She is a man? If you're a man, why are you wearing a thong in a public park? Ohhhhh, because 'zat's perfectly naturale.' Of course! Where I come from you'd get your ass beat for that...and I'd laugh!" It's at this point the policia would ask you to take it easy. You would take a certain amount of pride in knowing you could whip that cop's ass though, him being such a Euro Nancy Boy. And then your eyes would glaze over as you smiled and thought about that time you saw a cop whip the shit out of those three homeless guys in Central Park with a Maglight just because they were sleeping too close to the restaurant's patio. And you'd be searching that backpack for that friggin' Eurorail pass to get you back to the airport so you could get back where you belong.
Aaaaaaaaand, scene.
Thank you.