Are you sure you’re in the right job?

Following last week’s column on the perils of picking mushrooms, I received an email from a professional mushroomologist. I thought he might embark on heroic tales from the forests and how to avoid poisonous varieties of fungi. However, his advice was quite blunt. He admitted the mushrooms he consumes “have to come wrapped in cling film in an environmentally unfriendly polystyrene carton and from an air-conditioned establishment with a name like Sainsbury’s, Tesco’s, Waitrose etc”.

So there you are. Straight from the mushroomologist’s mouth. No scrambling about in the woods for his breakfast … it’s down to the supermarket. So I had better cancel plans for a mushroom expedition in deepest Chaiyaphum next week. I would probably get arrested anyway for illegal logging.

The mushroomologist got me thinking about unusual occupations. There was recently a TV programme about a teddy bear auction in London featuring a gentleman introduced as a “teddy bear expert”. I had never come across that profession before, but he talked authoritatively about funny ears, stubby noses and oneeyed teddies.

Just imagine being at a function and asked your occupation and replying “teddy bear expert”. That’s either a total conversation stopper, or perhaps, a stunning opener, sparking an evening of stimulating conversation analysing The Teddy Bears’ Picnic.

One wonders how you become a teddy bear expert. I can’t recall our school careers officer suggesting such an occupation. Imagine going home and telling your parents you’re going to be a teddy bear expert, or for that matter, a mushroomologist. I would have got a clip round the ear.

Sniffing around

There are a number of genuinely weird and wonderful occupations out there. One that caught my eye was “odour judger”. This involves the delightful task of sniffing people’s armpits all day to test whether a deodorant is working or not. One hopes for the sake of the armpit sniffers that most deodorants are reasonably effective. Envisage waking up every morning knowing you are facing a day of sticking your snout into sweaty armpits.

Another job that is perhaps an acquired taste is that of “pet food taster’’. It apparent requires a “sensitive palate”, but one suspects also a cast-iron stomach. Somebody has to do it I suppose.

A much more appealing occupation is that of “comfort tester” assessing the softness of armchairs and sofas. Now that’s one career that might be worth pursuing. Then there is the position of “alcohol taster” which involves going into hotel bars and testing alcoholic beverages. Some would say journalists already do that without being asked.

For anyone who prefers a bit more action, how about a career as a “human cannonball”? One fellow interviewed by the BBC after hurtling through the air from a cannon said “it’s a nice feeling”. We’ll take his word for it.

Bottom line

Back in prehistoric times there was a BBC TV show called What’s My Line? chaired by Eamonn Andrews. A panel of celebrities would have the task of guessing the occupation of contestants who performed a brief mime of their work before taking questions.

It was all a bit tame, except when panellist Gilbert Harding, a rather grumpy old journalist, livened things up by insulting contestants, earning him the tag of “Rudest Man in Britain”.

Generally regarded as the strangest — or strangest sounding — profession which featured on What’s My Line? was that of a “sagger maker’s bottom knocker”. Although it sounds a bit rude, it is in fact something to do with moulding pottery.

Sleepers and snorers

There are plenty of specialised occupations in Thailand, including “grasshopper grillers” who often have sidelines in ants eggs, beetles, worms and frog parts. You never saw those jobs on What’s My Line?

We must not forget the “whistle blowers’’. This is not those protesters of a couple of years back but those who whistle on a daily basis for a living. These are the gentlemen directing traffic at car parks, department stores and hotels who blow whistles amid much arm waving. No one has a clue what the whistling is all about, but it seems to work.

Then there are the “dozing security guards” who have become something of an institution. Their vigilance at sleeping on the job has won many admirers. Which brings us to that wonderful occupation unique to Thailand, the ”inactive post”. Everybody is familiar with these diligent people totally committed to selfless inactivity. Every day they can be seen busy doing nothing, snoring away with commendable passion. They are the perfect solution to the unemployment problem and ought to be promoted as a tourist attraction, a bit like that equally inactive aircraft carrier in Sattahip.

Good afternoon, ladies

During student vacations I experienced a variety of temporary jobs, most of them quite unappealing. After a week in a potato crisp factory, I never wanted to eat another crisp again.

There was one stint as a census taker in the City of London which had its moments. It was in the St Paul’s area and I had to extract information from fascinating Dickensian characters. I was only 19 and remember walking down an alley into a place which seemed to have rather a lot of ladies in residence.

Upon innocently asking who lived there and what was their occupation, I was greeted with hoots of bawdy laughter. Let’s just say it was not a nunnery.