Posts Tagged ‘major’
August 5, 2008 in The Way It Were
Tags: america, boy, brother, business, button, chance, codgers, communications, cum, danny, days, demand, department, earth, fish, football, founding, frat, fraternity, friend, graduate, her, kindred, laude, leave, life, lineman, major, nicole, parasite, players, professor, reset, reset button, scum, second, spirit, stink, summa, sunday, supply, three, tyson, visitors, waste
He came on Friday, reminding us all how true it is that, as one of America’s founding codgers noted, fish and visitors stink after three days. He called one of my close female friends in a moment of crisis.
Newly graduated in December 2007, he had made the unfortunate choice of leaving CalPoly with a plain, ol’ business finance degree. That’s the degree linemen choose — in the business department, the prerequisite bar is usually set so low that Mike Tyson would earn his summa cum laude, even without threatening to bite off his professors’ ears.
As a finance graduate might understand, because there is such a great supply of business majors, there is very little demand. He’s been living out of his car since he left school, and hasn’t had a job since he boneheadedly quit his internship. He’s made a lot of mistakes.
Of course, he swears he’s made up this time, that he has a few good job opportunities on the horizon. Press a little harder, and you’ll find that these opportunities are no opportunities at all. They entail selling insurance, providing your own leads and working solely on commission. I’d rather work for Alec Baldwin.
Moreover, our friend is eternally awkward, and has no idea how transparent was his sucking up. Nicole would ask him: Want to do a puzzle, friend?
Sure. I love puzzles, dude.
His unenthusiasm was palpable. Or, a different friend would ask another: How’d you like hiking up in Yosemite?
It was sweet. Once we got to the top of our mountain, there were all of these hot chicks, especially Nicole.
I’m told he laughed his way out of the shock and horror the within-earshot Nicole gave him. He was the definition of pathetic, and almost the second definition of sympathetic. Early on his last day in Nicole’s apartment, he broke the shower head. Not because he intended to, but because he forced it in a direction it was not at all inclined to swivel. He was pathetically sympathetic.
Until, of course, he in confidence he tried to make what he’d play off as another misfired joke.
I didn’t want to take advantage of my mom or my sister, so I’ve been taking advantage of my friend Danny and my friend Nicole. Heh-eh.
My facial expression told him that I was not the kindred spirit he imagined me to be. He stuttered a bit, and clumsily tried to cover up his tracks with a few more of his one-and-a-half laughs.
Someone is in a dire need of a reset button, so it’s too bad God hasn’t seen fit to make ‘em. Part of me believes it’d just be a waste, anyway: A guy like that would just bone up and make the same mistakes the second time around.
He left on Sunday, proving once and for all that fish and visitors can stink within three days, as well as after.
Every day, we experience a thousand moments, each of those moments setting in motion a thousand slightly different possibilities in the future. When we make these choices, we are thrust toward another day's crossroads, where we have another thousand choices.
Given the infinite number of choices we make in a lifetime, why do we choose so many of the same routes and make just as many of the same mistakes as our parents and grandparents?
I plan to learn from their mistakes. Let's see how far I get.
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