Oh, Grow Up

 Quote: "The aim of a college education is to teach you to know a good man when you see one." – William James

I’m a post grad. It’s something that has been pounded into my head everyday since school let out in December. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t in denial at first. I still wanted to party like a college freshmen and let’s face it, I have. But it’s almost as if I spend so much time going out to spite the fact that someone out there decided it was only socially acceptable while enrolled in school between the ages of 18 and 22. I know I’m in a different boat. I can tell because when I wake up and my eyes ache, I can’t just skip my first 2 hours of work, like I would an early morning class. My lunch break is 30 minutes and I eat a sandwich my mother made me the night before alone in the break room. I’m not sitting at the coffee house with friends, passing the time before my next class.

Nope. I wake up and I go to Target. The place I’ve worked part time since I was 16. It’s in the process of being remodeled at the moment and every once in a while, I look around and realize I hardly recognize the place. The once white walls have been painted red and occasionally I worry that they’re closing in on me. The familiar faces are few and far between, retail is known for having a revolving door when it comes to their employees and me being their 6 and a half years is damn near impressive. Or sad, it depends who you ask. I listen to their skepticism when I tell them I plan to work in television. So few of them believe in a world outside the Bullseye Prison, as I’ve affectionately come to call it. 

You could imagine my surprise when I received a phone call from the major cable news network I interviewed at in January over a month after I applied. A phone call in which they offered me a job. I’d made a quiet pact with myself that I would be out of Target by the time the remodel had finished and now, here it is. My way out.

It’s part time, but it allows me to go down to one day a week at Target. I’ll be working early mornings on weekends. My social life will suffer. I won’t just be faking the real world anymore. I’ll be entering it. I’ll be the kind of guy who works in New York City. The kind of guy who had a goal and made it. Got a job in his field within 2 months of graduating college. The kind that barely exists anymore.

Its why I made such a big deal out of visiting my alma matter last weekend. I wanted to hang out with my friends who still lived at school, knowing it’d be the last weekend I could spend with them for a while. There was a girl there, one who’d developed something with. We’d gone out to dinner and kissed while sober, something I was no longer accustomed to. She lent me books and and made me smile.

It’s why I was surprised by best friend’s confession that he had kissed her. I’d guessed that he’d been developing feelings for her and had asked him about it. He was honest and after a while confessed to the kiss. I called him a dick, made him feel bad, punched him hard once in the arm and took shots with him, while stating, I wouldn’t have done that to him.

Before long we’re in an apartment, partying with all the right people. I’m surprised when I find him crying to a mutual friend in a bedroom out of guilt for what he’d done to me. Before long we’re alone, both drinking more and crying, repeating "I love you man," and swearing to never fight about a girl again. I feel warm and sad, because I know I’m past this. I’m past the point of kissing the wrong person or even acting impulsively. I don’t hold it against him because I know he regrets it and he’s learning. 

It’s not that I think I’ve learned all there is to know or that I’ll never make a mistake again, I just know I won’t make that mistake. I know enough about the people I want to be around and a little bit more about the person I want to be everyday. I can tell what relationships are right for me and which are wrong. 

I don’t want to be messy. I’d rather be together. I don’t want to apologize for stupid mistakes, because I don’t want to make them anymore.

I’ve almost prided myself on making bad choices these past few years, swearing they were lessons learned. I was right. I’m older now.

I won’t be drinking my face off this weekend or ending up in the bed of a stranger. I’ll be preparing for my first day of work. Reading a book. Missing my friends. Moving on to the next chapter in my life.