This marks the beginning of what will hopefully be a long-lived commentary on my existence as a college graduate. One day I will hopefully be able to publish a book of essays called I've Come For Blood: A commentary on life by David Awalt. So without further adue...I humbly present Pt. 1, Are you kidding me?!?...
Geronimo!!! I feel kind of like I got robbed; robbed of my inalienable right to utter some sort of guttural yell as I charge headlong into something knew and unknown. I wish the transition to adulthood and the real world would have been more sudden then maybe I could have found the chance to achieve this vocal fantasy, but instead it was drawn out and a bit tiresome. It wasn't the go to bed a child and wake up an adult type of experience I'd always dreamed it would be.
I can remember the day I really set my heart to get out of my safe and secure college town, which was well within the shield of my parents' protective umbrella. I can remember the day I told my parents I just couldn't do school anymore that I needed to go out and live a little. I can remember the day I broke the news to my friends. And I can remember the day I actually moved. The day I officially set out on my own to see where life would take me. The only problem was it just wasn't as romantic and dramatic a transition as I thought it was going to be. In reality it was rather drawn out with all the breaking of news and hugs and goodbyes and talks about what I was going to do and everything else that goes along with leaving your home away from home for the past four years.
I say all that to make a point, life doesn't always go the way you expect it to and even want it to. I mean I still charged headlong into a new and potentially failing experience but I did it at a walk. I put my metaphorical fingers up to my head like bull horns, pawed the ground with my foot, lowered my head and slowly walked forward into the unknown.
For me this meant about a solid month of slowly watching your little bit of savings go away, then your credit card bill go up. A solid month of sitting in from of a computer at your house filling out job applications and slowly letting the depression creep in on you. A few times I found the courage to get my vitamin D starved self out of the house and to a local coffee shop to continue my search. I watched my dream bubbles of being an influential writer / contributer to some publication burst. Then my dreams of writing for anyone at all burst. Then the fear that my proverbial paddle might be smaller than I thought and even, dare I say it...unusable when I found myself up a creek.
Then all the fear rushed away as I found a job. It wasn't a writing job, it wasn't influential or bettering the world in any way, but it was a job. I was a "sales associate" at a electronics store chain and I made minimum wage + "commission." I had a college degree and I'd been forced to settle for this job. But that isn't the issue here...no the real issue is something that happened one night when I was cleaning the windows. A coworker and I were outside the store when a guy on a skateboard rolled up haughtily with an acoustic guitar on his shoulder like an axe. He proceeded to ask if either one of us had a cigarette, which we didn't. So instead of leaving he asked if the guy working inside had one and then a drawn out tale of why he didn't have one and why he needed one. Apparently the raspy, tar-influenced voice is desired by some people. I proceeded to ask him where he was playing and he promptly told me. Normal enough right? Well the kicker is I told him I didn't know where that was and he with a single sentence ruined my faith in struggling musicians. He said he was glad I didn't know cause he didn't want me coming there and ruining the vibe of the place...
Are you kidding me?!?
That is the single most pretentious thing someone has said to me in a long time. I mean I'm all about vibes but what about me in my work uniform gives this the right to assume so much about me. I won't go into what I replied with but it wasn't polite, fortunately I think my sarcasm didn't hit a nerve with Mr. Pretentious and he kept making stupid jokes and being unwanted. When I finally skated off I was still just fuming. I told a few people about the incident and complained about the nerve of some people and then I had an epiphany. I was just like Mr. Pretentious there right when I moved. I was so worried about my cool new city and life experience "vibe" being ruined that I immediately passed judgment on some things I didn't even know anything about. But mainly I tried at first to forget about my past experiences and where I'd come from and been through in an effort to preserve this new "vibe." Thanks to some wonderful people though I didn't make it as far along the road marked douche as Mr. Pretentious, but I was definitely on my way. So with all that in mind I can finally throw back my head and yell at what's to come and warn it that I'm coming with an open mind and a good grasp at where I've come from. GERONIMO!!!
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