As my new identity starts appearing piece-by-piece in my newly-assigned mailbox, I found myself confronted by this question:
Pirate, Ninja or Cowboy?
It may seem a trite question to be asked as you are ordering your Grande Gold Coast Roast and Cranberry Muffin. However, as Chris, my barista, pointed out “you never really know a person until you know which major archetype they’d pick: Pirate, Ninja or Cowboy.”
I guess, with my fresh new identity, I must reevaluate this question and see which archetype the New Me picks.
After some deep thought while I sip my coffee and watch the world pass me by, I imagine myself as a kunoichi (female ninja) working undercover in our enemies strong hold. Sneaking out under the cover of night to pass on the intelligence I’d gathered during the day. Hummm, “working undercover”… likely as a household servant. Well we all know that’s a cover that wouldn’t wash… and neither would I. So Ninja’s out.
Okay, maybe Cowboy. I imagine myself riding the range. Herding sheepers. Up early for a campfire breakfast, to bed late once the sheep were safe. Saddling my horse to ride the bounds, chase off coyotes and interlopers. No wait. I gave my saddle away to Dani’s kids and Gerry’s allergic to horses. Besides, I hate shoveling out stables. Nope, that’s not going to work.
So swashbuckling it is! I would happily pick swashbuckling over shoveling, swords over shuriken and an eye patch over a cowboy hat.
In fact, as a child I aspired to a pirate, Zorro, Spiderman, Wonder Woman, an entrepreneur, and occasionally the Almighty Isis. Never a ninja or cowboy. Or even a cowgirl or ninjette for that matter.
Even after the corruption of the archetype by Disney’s over-commercialization, I have been a pirate-girl.
Yup, I’m picking pirate. Ye may now call me Cap’n Xena Hornigold. Fret not Dancing Purple Sausage, we always need deck hands but from now on we’ll be calling you Purple Pegleg Pete. Avast, me maties, do ye have sea legs or be ye just
happy to see me?
So… Pirate, Ninja or Cowboy?