There’s nothing worse than not knowing how to open an essay. You got all the ideas floating around in that noggin of yours, but the part that puts them together is still napping off the suspiciously cheap vodka from last night. Well, here it goes, I’m folding my rockets, I’m going to lay down the best hand I’ve been dealt. I’m currently a student of a second-tier state university with an over budgeted athletic program, and I go here for free, joy. Boy was I lied to. You work your way through an overly Christian and conservative high school that considers freedom of speech to be on the same level of alcohol, inappropriate for underage use. The kids there are the same, miniatures of their breeders, soon to take their spot as CEO of Stick’N’Anus enterprises. Teachers were apathetic and anyone who could deal with this lot of spoiled children was immediately hired. My comments got me in trouble, my sense of humor was blasphemous, I was promised that if I did well I’d go to a decent college, more liberal, a place where the tiny seed that is my brain could blossom into a beautiful white collar flower. I did what they said. Fuck yeah, I was getting the hell out of there. A land filled with unique people, alcohol and females with questionable morals, smells like home.
My first semester here was like the first time I went to McDonalds. You see it on TV, a place with playgrounds, clowns, mascots of unknown gender and mouthwatering burgers that are plump and ooze with flavor. The 2 story playground with a huge swirling slide that you promise yourself you’ll ride until you puke. And then you go. You walk in knees shaking with excitement. It doesn’t look as good as the one on TV but that’s ok it still looks awesome. You go up to the counter and order your first kids meal with the 4$ you just asked your mom for so you can buy it yourself. You see the obese minorities and lanky teens in the back making your food, everyone in the commercial was attractive…meh who cares.
You get your food and bolt to the playground, not before you run back to the counter because you forgot your orange soda. Wow. Holy shit. This place is awesome. Ball pit, check. Awesome slide, check. Cockpit, complete with plastic bubble and steering wheel, check. You take out your gourmet meal and then it’s all downhill from there. The perfect burger you were promised looks like someone had sat on it and farted, repeatedly. The fries are cold and the toy is a piece of shit. My heart is broken.
At least you still have the playground. You walk in only to be hit by the smell of socks and stale vomit. You run to the slide, that’ll be worth it. You reach the top and that excitement you had when you came in is back. You sit on the edge, fingers cold and heart beating. You let go…and you let go… What the fuck? You’re not moving, you have to push yourself every 5 inches. Your dreams of shooting out the slide at 80 miles per hour, rolling on the mat and finishing in an awe-inspiring pose are dead. Is this really it? Is this really what you promised me?
Besides my major that promised great rewards after 4 years of sacrifice (mechanical engineering) the scene didn’t change much. Being a state school with 71% in-state students the only diversity I found was in the mirror. Everyone had their high school click, everyone went home for the weekends it was basically a 30k a year daycare for young adults, and they’re still kids. Being an honors student in this “prestigious” institution made me feel like a one eyed man in the land of the blind, the problem is I have two. I went to job fairs and talked with alumni. The successful ones needed Viagra for sex and the young ones needed a miracle. Recent grads –if they were lucky enough to be employed- told me that the only had to keep on working hard and do slave labor for 5-10 years before they made senior engineer and could start living the good life. Excuse me? I was promised 50K a year starting salary. Fill one hand with promises and the other with shit; see which one fills up first. 9-15 years before my life picks up, before the promises I’m promised now are fulfilled. Excuse me, but fuck you. I was told to change my major. It’s not about the money; it’s about doing something your passionate about. It’s hard to pick your passion out of catalogue. Change it to something you like, a field where the tiny seed that is your brain can blossom into a beautiful white collar flower. I did what they said. Same shit different asshole.
To those of you who graduated college you’re probably aware of the calls asking you to support your alma mater with a donation of 250$, that’s me on the other line. This job showed me the value of a college degree. Retired without a penny, unemployed, living with parents 15 years after graduation, unemployed, drowning in debt, working in a restaurant, unemployed, drives a truck, unemployed, unemployed…these people went to the same place I did, promised the same things I was, their Aces cracked. Those with enough money to donate made it out of wit; most times there degree had nothing to do with their wealth. What was their secret, how did they succeed where so many failed? What am I doing here? Did I really puke in the shower last night?
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