workShow most recent or highest rated first. Common beliefs in this section include:
- Firemen start fires.
- Getting fired means being set on fire.
- You can be literally anything you want - animal, vegetable or mineral
When I was little I thought that the street a crossing guard worked on was named after the crossing guard because my grandmother Carmen worked on Carmen Ave.
When my dad's company was laying off a lot of the employees, I was terrified that my dad would be "fired". I imagined a huge boss walking around lighting people on fire with a huge blow torch.
I used to believe that you had to "buy" your job. The more money you paid, the better the job.
When I was little, I believed that my Dad worked in a factory where they painted peas green!
I used to believe that working in adulthood involved losing at least 1 finger. all the men I knew when I was a child had lost some fingers while warking in constructions, as mechanic, etc.
So I was ok with the idea of losing a finger or 2 when I grew up.
I used to believe that a metal sculpture of a fireman's hat and coat on the wall of the fire house was the ash-covered remains of a fireman who had died heroically in a fire. Every time we drove past it, I was terrified that people could die like that on the job.
I used to believe that a prostitute was like a prosecutor.
I used to believe that at the end of the day in restaurants, the waiters would sit down for their evening meal and finish all the leftovers. So I used to make sure I left enough for the waiters on my plate!
When I was around 5 I got the kind of mines that blew up and the kind that people dug in for coal ect. Mixed up. I knew that the kind that exploded were pretty small so the idea thatc anyone could get in there was hard to picture so I figured miners were vrry tiny people.I was further confused when my dad said mining was a dangerous job because of the explosions which further reinforced my misconception.I remember imagining a line of little ant like miners filing into one of those round iron mines with the lumps on the outside through a tiny door while sad music played in my head.
When I was a little kid, I went with my mom to the paint store and was fascinated by all the different colors of paint samples, each with their own mysteriously descriptive name. I asked Mom where they got the names for all these colors, and she replied that it was somebody's job. I was elated to find my future profession! I would be a color-namer.
This would of course be the GREATEST job in the world, but as of yet I haven't found any available positions.
As a young child I thought plumbers were men who sold Plumbs!
I used to believe adults lived where they worked. I thought the staff room (teachers' lounge) at school was some sort of complex, although the teachers actually slept on their desks. I whole-heartedly believed the minister slept in one of the pews (some had long, mattress-like cushions on them): it seemed ludicrous a building as big as a church would be kept for just an hour a week - something that still baffles me!
When I was younger I wanted to be an archeaologist. I watched lots of TV shows on Egyptians, Pompei, and the like. What finally made me decide against it is that I was worried if I was alone and found a skeleton, I would scream and cry (and ruin my career).
I used to believe that secretary was a person who kept all the secrets in a club or organization and was an important person in that group till I finally learned about them in school.
I use to believe that " student driver "
Was a taxi driver that was a student , one day we were in a taxi when I asked the driver if he goes to my grade 1 class
My mother used to refer to one's bowel movements as "business"; e.g. "Hurry up on the toilet, I've got to do some business." Therefore, I drew the natural conclusion that when my uncle "went to Hong Kong on business" that he actually slid there on a turd.
When I joined the Royal Navy in the early sixties I convinced my dear old mum that we anchored every night and everybody went to bed, and sheusedtobelieve that for years!.
When I was 5, the mother of one of the kids in my class came to school to talk about her job, which happened to be nursing. During the talk, she mentioned that if you had to go into "theatre" you should never wear nailpolish, as they need to see the colour of your fingernails to make sure you are getting enough oxygen.
Well, a week later, Mum took us to a play....at the THEATRE...and I had nailpolish on. I pleaded with my mother to take it off with remover, but she didn't have any. In sat there in the theatre gripped by mortal fear for the whole play. Mum didn't have a clue about what I was on about until she talked to the teacher a few weeks later!! Finally it was explained to me that the nurse meant "operating" theatre!!
When I was in first school I started noticing that my friends in fourth year (9 years old, very grown-up!) would vanish over the summer and not be there when I came back in September. I asked one of the classroom helpers where they went; she said they were leaving the school. For another year and a half I believed that once you were nine years old you had to leave school and go to work... in my mind it was never normal office-type work either but something like mining or working in a factory full of smoke. Maybe in Victorian times I would have been almost right.
At the dinner table each night, my father would regail us with stories from work. He often referred to his co-workers by last name. I thought it was amazing that one of the people he worked with was half man half woman. One night I mustered the courage to ask whether they were split down the middle, or at the waist. The table roared for minutes while I blushed. The co-workers name was "Sheehee".