A Job I Wouldn't Want

Please help me, SJG

There are many jobs I wouldn't want (grave digger, Zamboni driver, roofer, Sarah Palin's moose-finder), but of all the employment opportunities I'd have to decline with a great big "No Thankie!" the one that sounds the most hellacious:  Charlie Sheen's sober coach.  If a call came in this morning,  "Is this the notorious SJG?" to which I'd have to answer, "Who wants to know?" If the caller said, "This is Charlie Sheen's agent,"  I'd say, "Condolences."  If the caller said, "We hear you're very good with drunks," I'd say, "I've been known to calm down a few intoxicated relatives at Passover."  If the caller dangled this before me, "How would you like to work one-on-one with Charlie and slap some sense into his sorry ass?" I'd say, "How much?"  If the caller said, "Six figures to watch Charlie 24/7.  You see him reach for a drink or a pill, you grab it out of his hand and wrestle him to the ground, lock him in a closet, do whatever you have to do."  At this stage of the job offer, I'd be entitled to ask, "How are the benefits? My pet insurance is about to run out."  If the caller said, "The benefits kick in if you survive the first 48 hours with Mr. Crazy." "It's tempting," I'd say, "but I'm thinking no."  If the caller resorted to begging, "Seven figures, a penthouse at the Plaza, a personal masseuse at your beck and call, and all the Prada that fits you, alterations included," I'd still have to say, "I'm flattered, really, I am.  I mean, a gig like this doesn't come along that often.  Pass-a-rooni, nonetheless.  I wish you the best of luck.  I hear Lindsay Lohan's sober coach is available."