Today’s Daily Prompt asks whether I would thrive in a barter-based society. Ha!
In a word, no. I have no transferable skills whatsoever, unless you would be willing to pay me to come round and load your dishwasher for you. No, I thought not.
I was reasonably good at my job, but unless you happen to be a major investment institution then trust me, you have no need whatsoever to find out what you’re missing, as regards my (very) specific area of expertise. Under no circumstances even think about exchanging it for anything of real value.
There are some things you would have to be clinically insane to let me anywhere near. See me with a paintbrush or a screwdriver and just take the kill shot without a second’s hesitation. No jury would ever convict.
This is purely theoretical, though. Finding myself within five feet of anything with even a remotely practical application would have the same physical effects as washing down a handful of antabuse pills with a slug of Smirnoff Blue. It’s not going to happen.
This is not to say that I am completely useless:
My tea-making has been judged acceptable more than once and I can even follow simple recipes, albeit with a slavish lack of imagination.
I can throw a log in the Rayburn with the best of them, although my log stacking is not up to professional standards.
When it comes to the great outdoors, while my use of the strimmer has received favourable reviews, unless thistles become a tradable commodity it’s not exactly going to put food on the table.
All things considered, there is nothing I can offer that you couldn’t do at least as well yourself, without the bother of having me hanging around making the place look untidy.
Hardly surprisingly, I am a big fan of the cash nexus.