For the last four years, I've worked diligently on acquiring my bachelor's degree in Marketing. I even found time to get a minor in Corporate Communications. When I'm not in classes, I'm putting theory to use, working at a reputable economic development firm. I pay attention in class; I show up on time; I take this college deal seriously.
Praise be to Jesus, this is my last term of a full workload. After signing up for three marketing classes and "Competive Advantage and Strategic Management," I thought I'd use one of my electives on something that would be fun, relatively easy, interesting... English "The Beat Fifties."
Sounds groovy, right? I have the fondest memories sitting in Ms. Rosalind Jones' AP English class in the spring, with the windows open, the urge for munchies just subsiding- discussing metaphor in Siddharta. Oh, it was beautiful! Nine beautiful nerds sitting in a circle trying to get in Hesse's head, and seven out of nine of those beautiful nerds received the highest score on the AP exam. Those other two degenerates got 4/5.
Fast forward to this morning's class, a veritable collection of barely-there potheads, embittered chicks in combat boots, and a guy who shows up half an hour late to a 50-minute class and probably hasn’t bathed in recent history. Whatever, dude, they're artists. Now the professor goes on her anti-organized religious rant, and something about "making dirty sex to the dark woman."
Chick in the front row, can you tell us the setting of this novel?
"It's just... it's just fuckin hell. Everyone is so pretty and clean with their polo shirts and white picket fences. It's fuckin miserable. Everyone is just pretending they're happy, but deep down, they fuckin hate themselves and everything they're pretending to be. So fake."
Yeah, thanks Chick-in-the-Front-Row. 'Westport, CT' would have been an acceptable answer too.
And why are you so damn bitter, Chick-in-the-Front-Row!? Your major simply requires you to lie in bed and read. Also, it’s not like the books have gotten progressively more difficult as you’ve gone through college. If you are literate, I think you’re going to be okay. And paying 40k a year to read poems at a well-respected engineering school? Well, maybe you should be the one taking a couple business courses…
Here, I wrote you a haiku:
Why are you so damn loathsome?
Reading isn’t hard.
Author’s Note: I don’t hate on all English majors. Just the self-righteous, bitter ones who aren’t honest with themselves.