In roughly six weeks I will no longer be a college student. I will be thrust into the world outside the comforts of my college community and will be moving back in with my parents. I have avoided job fairs like the plague and have yet to send my resume to an employer. I think its denial. Where did four years go? I walked by a career fair last night held in the student center and took a moment to look around at the students in suits and dresses reaching out for business cards. For some reason I didn’t mind that I wasn’t meeting the representatives from Abercrombie and Fitch and Sun Microsystems.
More recently this year than ever before, I have realized that there is no way my life will work in a 9-5 cubicle. Luckily I figured this out in February, right in time for MTV’s ‘The Real World’ auditions. Turning on my video camera I confessed to the producers of the show that I was a “fun and wild individual that doesn’t want to join the work force”, therefore I would fit in with the cast of Season 19. Apparently I didn’t have the quality of “dysfunction” and therefore didn’t get called back. If by some act of hell I’m still jobless in a year I might re-audition and make up some lie about how I have anger management issues, and have already been to rehab. But on second thought ruining my future and becoming a permanent fixture on MTV may not be my best option.
So once ‘The Real World’ was out of the picture I decided to go the entrepreneurial route and somehow convinced my other two jobless roommates to open a bar with me. The idea struck when I found a vacant property near our college campus. The 8,000 square foot building would be converted into a dance floor, bar, maybe two if we were ambitious. We thought about names for about two weeks and decided on ‘The Holy Grail’ paying respects to our Jesuit education roots. Other options were ‘Chapmans’ (the name of the cross-street) or ‘Vonnies’, a nickname that we awarded our fourth roommate. We then talked to the real estate agent who shattered our dreams by informing us that the building was not zoned for a bar and was going for a cool two million dollars. I literally laughed at him over the phone, thanked him for his assistance, and then started raking my brain for more a new idea.
I should invent something. But from years of watching late night infomercials and visiting the “As Seen on TV” stores in airports everything has been invented. From the light that turns on when you clap to a handsfree canopener I can only hope that I am blessed with some form of genius and am able to sell some over priced gadget in the SkyMall magazine. But until that day I might need to start looking for a nine to five.