Welcome to the "Real" world

I have written about the "real" world before so I hate to be redundant. When I say the "real" world I of course refer to the most used term for unwanted responsibility by soon to graduate college students or soon to be grad students. It's an imaginary ritualistic transformation to adulthood that has completely mystified me from inception.

Last weekend I was taking some contestants from the stage back to their hotel and with them being my age I asked them about their college plans or otherwise. The two girls of the group said they were content after graduation to going back to their hometowns but one said he was putting off the "real" world and going to graduation school. I was instantly interested and asked what he planned on studying in graduate school.

Oh, what I plan to study in graduate school? He asked with a puzzled grin.

Yea, like what's your field man? I asked warding off an inappropriate yawn. 

Well, I majored in business finance and art history. I had a minor in political science too so I was thinking of doing some engineering. I'm not sure though. 

Sounds like you have a great resume for designing strip malls. 

You think! Because I think that's totally something I could do!

Stay in school kid. Real life is hell. They make you get extra ranch dressings for cobb salads when clearly one will do. There is also credit card payments, cable bills, periodical bills and a crazy Mexican lady who makes your life hell. 

A crazy Mexican lady?

Don't ask questions kid this is your stop. The Ramada Inn, thanks for participating on American's Funniest Videos and have a nice life. 

There is a picture of a crazy person giving the bird above. I know that this picture is:

1.)Hilarious 

2.)Defines exactly how I feel about your fucking "real" world. 

Would you like to know about the "real" world? Let's introduce you to my good friend Daryl that lives a block from my apartment underneath the 101 Freeway and jerks off behind the south bound entrance wearing a pair of bunny ears. Welcome to the "real" world son. 

One time I was in the office, it was no different than any other time and the normalcy struck me in a very poisonous way. 

I was doing my work. Minding my own business trying to stay busy and quiet when normal conversation sparked up about celebrities, VH1 programming in general, relationship drama and gossip that drives a sane man to suicide. 

I became physically ill at one moment where a specific moment of "For The Love of Ray J" causes concern enough to raise their voices. My BLT on toasted sourdough with mayo rocketed from its comforted spot in my stomach, through my throat into my mouth. 

As a seasoned binge drinker over the years I've mastered the art of holding vomit back in public places. I was able to hold my sick back but my face expressed so much. The eyes can not lie and it was clear I had something to say. I locked eyes with both participants in the meaningless conversation, cheeks bloated with digested BLT. 

For a moment I thought about letting my lunch out all over them. Covering the monitors displaying dogs chasing their own tails and cats with their heads stuck in a can. I thought about letting it out over the blank tapes of the hundreds of thousands of people who were so positive they had a $100,000 tape. I thought about my sick dripping over the pictures sent in from the elementary schools who were so pleased with our last penguin montage so the entire 3rd grade drew a penguin in their image. I pictured how my half-eaten tomato slice improved Tommy's penguin with a perfectly placed beak. 

Then I turned my chair around and swallowed my own sick right back down into my stomach. It required several swallows but I got it all back down. 

That BLT was easier to get down the second time than back-to-back valley runs. 

I would of said something about California's unemployment rate or our country's failed War On Drugs that has resulted in thousands of lives lost or political unrest in Thailand or that the US doesn't feel they should prosecute CIA officials who tortured people or that it doesn't matter if two people love each they can not marry because they are gay.

I didn't say any of these things. I swallowed my own vomit because they didn't deserve my opinion.   

With All My Love & Respect Always, 

Mike James