Straight Up America

Yesterday Sam took me to a drive through convenience store.  Yes, that.  I couldn't believe when we pulled into this tunnel-like structure that there was even a man who would get whatever item I pleased for me, so that I wouldn't have to leave the safety and air conditioning of my automobile.  I struggled when he asked me what I wanted.  Everything looked so fucking convenient.  After some careful deliberation I went with a blue Gatorade and handed the man exact change, trying to reciprocate the spirit of convenience.  I could never imagine one of these "Cruz Thru's" in Vermont, and the more time I spend in other parts of the country, the more I realize how different VT really is.

Sam thought it was hilarious how I kept talking about the place and couldn't get over the fact that we didn't have to get out of the car.  I decided that the drive through convenience store was "Straight up America," and would probably fit right in with the view that people all over the world have of this country.  Although come to think of it, it's not as "Straight up America," as the McDonald's that's located inside the local 24 hour Wal-Mart...or the 12 places where one can get fast food breakfast here, Biscuitville, Waffle House, and IHOP just to name a few.  I guess shopping for guns and edited CDs just isn't the same without a Big Mac, and who wouldn't want a choice when it came to where they ate their eggs.  Either way, you have to admit... That's fucking convenient.

Tom Petty and Steve Winwood

Last night I saw an excellent show in Raleigh, Steve Winwood opening for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.  I could have used more Winwood, but I am just glad to say I have seen him.  Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were amazing, playing everything I wanted to hear.  They even did a Traveling Wilburys song called End of the Line which has become one of my new favorites, dedicating it "to all Wilburys...wherever they may be traveling."  

Winwood playing Dear Mr. Fantasy

 

Petty playing Learning to Fly

More Learning to Fly

Karma

If I didn't believe in Karma before yesterday evening, now I do.

My job as a host at a small, locally owned grill is pretty uneventful.  At first when customers tried to engage me in small talk they would ask me who my parents were.

"Oh I'm not from around here, I'm from Vermont" I would respond as if they couldn't tell from my accent.

"Ah, an Elon student what year are you?"

"Oh I don't go to Elon, my friend does, I'm just here for the summer."  This line signified an abrupt end to the small talk and usually the rest of the cash register transaction or seating process would be conducted in silence.  By telling customers exactly who I was, I immediately made it impossible for them to bond with me and I the awkward silence that ensued made everyone uncomfortable.

One day, I decided to mix things up a bit as two older ladies who regularly have lunch in the restaurant slowly made their way to the register to pay for their lunches.

"How was everything ladies?" I asked as usual with a big smile on my face.

"Oh just delicious thank you," the one with glasses responded as she indicated which items on the check she would be paying for.

"Are you an Elon student?" She asked me.  I paused for a moment and then made my move.

"Why yes, yes I am."  Big grins all around, I was in.

"What year are you?"

"I'm going to be a junior."

"Oh how lovely."  As the ladies continued to ask me very general questions about how I enjoyed the University and if I was taking any classes this summer, I realized this was my ticket to bonding with the customers.  In the next few days I honed my skills as a pretend Elon student, helping high school kids who came to eat with their parents.

"So what do you think of the size of Elon, like is it too big, too small?" A young curly haired kid asked me one day at the register while his mom and dad looked on.  My skills as a UVM Phonathoner immediately kicked in, as I built case for a school that I don't attend.

"Oh I think it's perfect.  There are between four and five thousand students so you don't feel like just a number, but at the same time you can always meet new people, and you don't feel like everyone knows everything about you.  And classes never have more than like thirty people so you can get to know your professors and everything which is sick.  It's a great school, you should go here."  Elon should pay me.

"Oh thank you so much for all of your help," the mother said to me warmly as she handed me a fifty dollar bill and I began to make change.

"No problem."

Everything was going perfectly with my little act until yesterday.

After seating an elderly couple in the back by the window, I noticed that as Sam served them, there was a lot of chit-chat which didn't surprise me as the couple seemed very friendly and Sam is pretty outgoing himself.  As I tended to my hosting duties which mostly involves moving menus around, drinking water, and eating soup crackers, and the couple ate their meal, I had no idea what kind of trouble I was about to be in.

As the couple got up from the table, I crossed their path to start the bussing process.  I smiled at the gentleman and he nodded back saying,

"Enjoy Montpelier."  I was confused for a second and he looked at me and then saw Sam emerge from the kitchen.  He had confused the two of us and as he realized his mistake I tried to alleviate any awkwardness.

"Oh yeah well Sam and I are friends, I am actually from Vermont too."

"Oh excellent, my wife and I were just telling him how much we love Vermont."

"Yeah it's a great state."  I didn't like having this conversation in the middle of the restaurant.   I had a rag in my hand and was sort of leaning on a booth which was uncomfortable and since there were so few people there at the time, I felt like everyone was watching me.

"So what year are you?"  He asked me.  I couldn't decide if I should tell him where I actually went to school, but I decided to just answer the question and let him make the next move.

"Oh I'm going to be a junior," I said, not revealing where I was going to be a junior.

"And what are you studying?"

"Political Science," I replied.

"Wow, you know I used to work with the head of that department here.  Tell me, who's your favorite professor?"  Shit.  I had been worried about a moment like this.  I had even made Sam tell me the name of a good Polysci professor here so I would be prepared, but under the intense stare of this old man I couldn't come up with the name.

"Oh gee I couldn't pick a favorite, their all good."  Stupid, he could see right through me.

"Oh come on, name me your favorite."

"No I couldn't."  I said, trying to make a move toward the table that I had to attend to.

"Just name me two or three then, two or three that you like."  Is this guy serious?

"I really can't it depends on the subject matter and everything and I just, I guess I just like them all."

"Oh alright,"  he said, clearly disappointed that I seemed to be holding back.

"Well tell me this then," he said shooting his index finger up into the air.

"This past year we had a couple of student speakers at graduation. Isn't that something?"

"Yeah that's great," I responded with a nod and a weak smile.

"And next year, we'd love to get a female.  Do you know any Political Science majors that are female and would be a good graduation speaker?"  I feel like somebody sent this guy in here just to fuck with me.

"Ummm, I don't know, there's a lot of talented people." I said as I see the other host start bussing their table, destroying my escape plan.

"Yeah but who stands out to you?"

"Oh I'm not really sure."

"Go ahead.  Name me two or three that stand out to you."

"Really Sir, I would ask the professors, they would know a lot better than I would. I hope you enjoyed your meal, but I really have to get back to work."

"Oh ok," the man said sounding extremely hurt.  He took one last puzzled look at me before joining his wife by the door and leaving the restaurant.

I breathed a sigh of relief and began wiping down another table with my rag that had dried up since being in my hand for so long.  I wiped some sweat off my forehead and decided that I would not be pretending anymore, at least for a few days.

Why Blog?

As I begin what I think will be the most exciting, adventurous, thought-provoking, potentially dangerous time of my life, I have a feeling there are a few people out there who are interested in what I am up to.  Maybe only my parents and my friend Brett will read this blog...

That's ok.  

Simply writing down what happens over the next year will help me make sense of what I'm doing and might help me determine what I want to be when I grow up, if that ever happens.  

So at about 3 a.m. this morning, after drinking a few too many beers, playing a couple games of Bags (or "Cornhole" as it's called in North Carolina, which sounds to me more like a third grade comeback than a game involving bean bags) and eating about a hundred pistachios in an apartment I've never been to before, it occurred to me.  I need to do something significant today.

 

I've made good on that pledge, waking up promptly at 4:30pm to begin my new, productive life...and above are the first fruits of that intense labor.