Notes V: Misanthropic Me
What happened to me?
Aren’t I too young to be asking myself that question? I am too young and too old. Whenever I see walking, breathing representations of that elite niche of society known as the college student, I want to roll down my window and scream aloud, “What do you do?! How are you contributing to society?! You, with your sun dresses and compositions books! You, with your Inter-mural sports T-shirt and frisbee! You, with your ‘I had-to-cram-for-a-final-now-I’m-going-to-get-wasted’-intentions revealed in your careless deportment! Tell me! What is it that you do?!
The specimen, after recovering from the initial shock, may reply, “I plan on contributing to society. I’m going to be a doctor.”
Another says, “I will join the Peace Corps!” and another,
“I’m going to be a teacher in the inner-city and help close that stubborn achievement gap!”
The last may set me over the edge. I’ll take that one aside and with the intensity of that Ancient Mariner, I will tell my tale.
“I was like you once! No! not too long ago, if you’d suspect me to be older. I was pushed out into the hard light of day…(I’d be hunched over, my fingers pulling upon the strings of their college hoodies)..I have seen the figures that cast the shadows upon the cave wall…(at this point, the student may try to turn around in her beaded and embellished sandals)...I wake up when the sky is dark.. (she takes a few steps back, short steps since she cannot take strides in her miniscule jean skirt which is frayed in all the right places)…And I get ready for bed at 9:30pm!
She screams, “Oh, the horror!” and flees from me back to her dorm room, her vegan cookie study sessions, her coffeehouse flirtations and her plans to contribute to society.
Then, perhaps, I’ll get back into my car and drive on. I’ll stop at a red light and glance at the vehicle in the next lane. Maybe I will see the other side. A woman in a mid-30s drives a sensibly gasoline efficient car carrying herself and a couple of miniature passengers in the back.
A very different kind of disdain emerges from the very depths of my bowels. I’ll roll down my window once more and extend my arm, not in the accusatory manner as before, but in an almost desperate appeal, I shout,
“You! You, with your higher degrees finished and done with! (I get out of my car) You, with your sensibly gas efficient car paid off! (I open her car door) You with the horror of childbirth behind you…(the little ones laugh at me from their car seats)…You with your accumulated sky miles, your job security, your home ownership, (she unbuckles her seat belt and gets out into the middle of the street with me) …your sense of satisfaction at the end of the day! You, who have forgotten the days when you contemplated driving off the freeway just to postpone the start of another work week! (She takes off her stylish, over-sized sunglasses to look at me) You, who are constantly drawing from deep reservoirs of job experience and moments of self-actualizations!
You make me sick!!!
Tell me! How do I become you?!!
She picks me up from the elbows to lift me from my groveling position.
She doesn’t say a word. She pats me on the head and offers a long sympathetic gaze which says, “This too shall pass.”
Bah! I break free from her soft manicured hands and return to my car and peel away from the intersection.
My eyes scan the sidewalks for other segments of society to heckle, to jeer at, to express my utter frustration with, to confront and tear down, to ask the question, “What am I supposed to be doing right now?!”
I decide to go home and write before I find myself accosting some unoffending octogenarian or, perhaps, an infant.
Aren’t I too young to be asking myself that question? I am too young and too old. Whenever I see walking, breathing representations of that elite niche of society known as the college student, I want to roll down my window and scream aloud, “What do you do?! How are you contributing to society?! You, with your sun dresses and compositions books! You, with your Inter-mural sports T-shirt and frisbee! You, with your ‘I had-to-cram-for-a-final-now-I’m-going-to-get-wasted’-intentions revealed in your careless deportment! Tell me! What is it that you do?!
The specimen, after recovering from the initial shock, may reply, “I plan on contributing to society. I’m going to be a doctor.”
Another says, “I will join the Peace Corps!” and another,
“I’m going to be a teacher in the inner-city and help close that stubborn achievement gap!”
The last may set me over the edge. I’ll take that one aside and with the intensity of that Ancient Mariner, I will tell my tale.
“I was like you once! No! not too long ago, if you’d suspect me to be older. I was pushed out into the hard light of day…(I’d be hunched over, my fingers pulling upon the strings of their college hoodies)..I have seen the figures that cast the shadows upon the cave wall…(at this point, the student may try to turn around in her beaded and embellished sandals)...I wake up when the sky is dark.. (she takes a few steps back, short steps since she cannot take strides in her miniscule jean skirt which is frayed in all the right places)…And I get ready for bed at 9:30pm!
She screams, “Oh, the horror!” and flees from me back to her dorm room, her vegan cookie study sessions, her coffeehouse flirtations and her plans to contribute to society.
Then, perhaps, I’ll get back into my car and drive on. I’ll stop at a red light and glance at the vehicle in the next lane. Maybe I will see the other side. A woman in a mid-30s drives a sensibly gasoline efficient car carrying herself and a couple of miniature passengers in the back.
A very different kind of disdain emerges from the very depths of my bowels. I’ll roll down my window once more and extend my arm, not in the accusatory manner as before, but in an almost desperate appeal, I shout,
“You! You, with your higher degrees finished and done with! (I get out of my car) You, with your sensibly gas efficient car paid off! (I open her car door) You with the horror of childbirth behind you…(the little ones laugh at me from their car seats)…You with your accumulated sky miles, your job security, your home ownership, (she unbuckles her seat belt and gets out into the middle of the street with me) …your sense of satisfaction at the end of the day! You, who have forgotten the days when you contemplated driving off the freeway just to postpone the start of another work week! (She takes off her stylish, over-sized sunglasses to look at me) You, who are constantly drawing from deep reservoirs of job experience and moments of self-actualizations!
You make me sick!!!
Tell me! How do I become you?!!
She picks me up from the elbows to lift me from my groveling position.
She doesn’t say a word. She pats me on the head and offers a long sympathetic gaze which says, “This too shall pass.”
Bah! I break free from her soft manicured hands and return to my car and peel away from the intersection.
My eyes scan the sidewalks for other segments of society to heckle, to jeer at, to express my utter frustration with, to confront and tear down, to ask the question, “What am I supposed to be doing right now?!”
I decide to go home and write before I find myself accosting some unoffending octogenarian or, perhaps, an infant.
posted by SomeMuteMilton at 9:34 PM
1 comments
