#293 Misguidance Counselor

So when I’m at this job fair at the community college I learned a couple of things. You could call it Hire Learning. Get it? Job. Hire. Across from my booth was one for the Washington State Department of Corrections. The odd thing was, they had a big sign on their display that said, “Volunteer Opportunities.” Okay, I understand the need for institutional volunteers, but somehow I hadn’t pictured a candy striper equivalent in a prison. Do they hold the prisoners clothes during a strip search? Hand out towels at the showers? Make coffee and cookies for the Friday Night showing of “The Longest Yard”? I also learned that most of the kids have taken recycling to heart. At least when it comes to their clothing. I saw more vintage clothing in 3 hours than you’d see all week in the real world. One of the kids had on a Guns & Roses T-Shirt—original version. Supposedly, Guns & Roses is supposedly touring again, though without many of the original members. I hear they’ve replaced that Slash guy with someone named Colon. I guess they still believe their guitar player should add punctuation to the band. It’s kind of sad though. You know you’ve sunk low when you are your own tribute band. Maybe they’ll play that Live and Let Die number. To me the ultimate low point in their original incarnation, a cover of a bad song by an ex-Beatle for a bad movie series whose previous songs and songwriters were the ultimate in pop schmaltz. Lots of money in the sell out business, I’m just not sure it fits with the dynamic of a hell-raising, rabble-rousing, rebellious rock and roll band. Welcome to the jungle.
And the college bathroom was weird. I guess restroom is a better term, there was no bath in it. I noticed a diagram of the building on the wall. Actually, being a verbal guy, what I noticed first was the sign above the diagram. It said in big bold letters, “Evacuation Routes.” For a minute I thought I’d wandered into the biology department’s excretory system lecture. I can handle my evacuation without a diagram, thank you very much. Then I saw it was an escape plan from the building and I was even more worried. None of the halls in the building proper had evacuation route signs. What was so special about this room that authorities thought I would be so panicked I would need a map out? Glancing nervously at the overhead beams, I evacuated quickly.
Finally, on my way to the college I’d stopped in at the courthouse. As I went back to my car, I noticed a line of cars stalking me, the lead car sniffing at my heel like a pathetic mongrel. He hovered as I pulled out of my slot, then pounced into the space. The most important lesson I learned that day, if you ever want to feel wanted, be about to pull out of a parking slot at the courthouse.
America, ya gotta love it.