By staff writer JD Rebello
July 2, 2006
A few months ago, I wrote about how much it sucks to be a senior in college. I hated the constant fear of not graduating and having to blow another $5,000 to take some bullshit poly-sci class. I hated the thought of dealing with cars and apartments and loans and interviews literally as soon as I grab my diploma. I hated that my BFFs would be moving away and I’d never see them and we wouldn’t be listening to Jack Johnson albums together. Tear.
My attitude at the time: Just graduate, baby. Make it out of college and everything would be cake. That’s what I believed.
Well, as is always the case, I’m an idiot.
You know that new Wayans’ brothers movie about the little midget black dude playing a criminal who goes undercover as a baby? (Hold on a second—typing that sentence gave me a nosebleed.) Okay, being a senior in college is like watching the trailer for that movie. Graduating college is like having to sit through that movie on a Friday night at midnight when you’re the only white dude in attendance, and everyone’s laughing at the funny Wayans guys and chomping nachos. (That’s not racist by the way; I worked at a movie theater. Black people buy ridiculous amounts of nachos.)
“Here’s the problem: Nobody wants to hire a recent college graduate. Unless you’re a Black Jew Canadian with TB, nobody even wants to talk to you.”
Anyway, graduating college is the absolute suck. It’s awful. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to do it.
How do I hate being a college graduate? Sing it with me: Let me count the ways!
The Endless Job Search
If you’re reading this as a high school student trying to decide what to major in, here’s a hint: business. Business is the easiest pile of shit major ever. In business math classes, they literally take turns throwing their own poop at the wall. Whoever can throw the most poop without eating any, gets an A.
And if you’re thinking such an easy major would be counter-productive toward getting a job, well, it’s almost cute how naive you are. Welcome to the Bush Presidency, where big business is king and any type of intellectual growth has gone the way of Aaron Spelling. I know quite a few business majors who shouldn’t be allowed to handle child-safe scissors and yet they’ve been recruited for $60,000 a year jobs. I’ll never be a guidance counselor because I’d hate to have to set myself on fire, but if I could impart one iota of wisdom on the ugly prick high schoolers who try to friend me on Facebook, it’s this: major in fucking business.
Now, for those of you who would like to major in English or communications or journalism, kill yourself. You have no idea how bad the job market is for those majors until you’ve actually gone to get a job. It’s awful. You know how war veterans always claim you could never understand war until you’ve been in one? War veterans are absolutely right. Even the shell-shocked ones are right on the ball. The job search is sort of like that. You never realize until you’ve actually been concerned about being hired to a data-entry position. And sad when you’ve been rejected.
Here’s the problem: Nobody wants to hire a recent college graduate. Unless you’re a Black Jew Canadian with tuberculosis, nobody even wants to talk to you. Well, why would they? What do you have to offer? The time you won the Super Bowl on the all-Madden level? The time you banged a Middle Eastern chick just for “the story”? The time you farted so loud the power went out? You’re 22, inexperienced, and have pathetic genitalia. I refuse to believe that’s just me.
Oh, and you know what else? Companies you apply to just love to take your resume and never get back to you. Honestly, how long does it take to say “no”? Some of these companies should talk to girls I’ve asked out—that oughta grease the wheels of efficient no-saying.
And if they do get back to you, prepare thyself for rejection not seen since the time you tried to jam a crumpled dollar bill into a picky vending machine. If you’ve applied for a job and are awaiting a response, let me kill your suspense: you don’t have enough experience. I’ve worked for a major newspaper for three years. I worked for my school paper as an editor and writer. I write a column for a Web site that gets picked on by someone named Tucker Max (I’ve honestly never heard of him, and frankly don’t trust people with two first names). I am super experienced to be a journalist and yet everyone and their mom and their mom’s mom’s dead dog, treats me like the Mormon at a Pepsi convention.
If you don’t have a job and one of your aunts or uncles asks you about your job status: lie. I cannot stress this enough, lie. Lie like a rug. (That’s a cliché, and there’s a reason for that. I want you to walk around thinking JD Rebello has really fallen off as a writer, and consequently you remember this paragraph and the importance of lying in this instance. See? There’s always a method to my madness.)
Why not tell the truth? Because if you tell someone in their 40’s or 50’s that you’re a college graduate and don’t yet have a job, you will invariably get this response:
“Boy, looks like the real world isn’t as easy as you thought.”
First off, go fuck yourself. Don’t Monday morning-quarterback my life. Second, when did I ever say that? I’ve been in college for five years. You think I never noticed that everyone in college is happy all the time and everyone out of college walks around like they just found out their dogs had to be put to sleep?
I also hate that real world shit. Because what exactly is the real world? My parents certainly work hard, but they live in a nice house with central air and go on vacations to tropical islands. I have $36 to my name, live in a shit-hole of an apartment, and frequently force my underwear to work a double shift because, quite frankly, I’m too damned lazy to haul my shit to a laundromat. That’s the real world, bitches!
Douchebag College Kids
I realize this is the Hindsight Effect, like when you all of a sudden graduate high school and you’re like, Jesus Christ on a crutch, what is wrong with these people? How are there not MORE school shootings?
But seriously, college kids are dopes. Especially the guys. Christ. I’ll never take back some of the evil things I’ve said about girls, but seriously, guys are fucking worthless. Every college guy is the same popped collar faggot with hair gel and the personality of a fucking stapler. And they’re loud. Oh so loud! I swear to Christ, every college bar I go to, there’s always one guy who equates being loud with being funny. Loud isn’t funny, unless you’re getting hit by a car with a bomb in the trunk. Now that’s funny.
And…AND they always want to fight. I’ve never seen anything like it. A couple of weeks ago, some fat fuck college kid wandered into my local college dive wearing a Hawaiian shirt. I had a few beers in the old gullet and so naturally, screamed out “LOVE BOAT!” Now, he wanted to fight me. First, the Love Boat thing was funny. Second, I have big ears, a skinny body, and my voice cracks. Get into a war of words, man. Have some fun without bleeding or getting arrested. I hate that alpha-male jerkoff mentality that everything has to be settled with fists.
And you know what else, you fat tub of monkey shit? I’ll kick your fucking ass because I’m crazy. I’m that guy in the fight who nobody fucks with because they’re crazy. I’m like Elijah Wood in SinCity. I’ll beat your fucking brains in. You don’t know what I’m capable of.
Okay. So I didn’t say any of this at the time, but you know, I think it goes without saying.
Gigantic Student Loans
Ahh, the proverbial turd in the collegiate punch bowl. Student loans are like tumors and Rudy Seanez: you know they’re out there, you just pray they don’t fuck your world up too much. You have no idea how boring of a human being you are until you actually get excited about consolidating, and nervous because interest rates are going up on July 1.
How awful is that? I’m only 22 years old. I have an NCAA 2006 season that keeps me up nights and I still watch Boy Meets World at 2AM on the Disney Channel, where they inexplicably don’t show the watershed episode where Cory and Shawn get drunk and piss on a police car. Goddamn, Disney’s gay.
Simply put, I shouldn’t be dealing with this bullshit. This is garbage for people in their 30's who have mortgages and kids and prostate problems. My prostate still works fine! Do you hear me? My prostate is great. I don’t need this. Can’t I just enjoy my 20's?
Oh well, I guess there’s always grad school. Or I could just impregnate some bitch.
Yeah. Good times.