Career Advice

This past weekend, I attended an alumni career event at my old college. To be honest, I didn't want to go. Alas, my friend Kurosh helped to organize the evening, so I felt obligated to attend. As much as I wanted to give an "I'm out of town" excuse, it's not something you can easily pull off when you're allowing said friend to stay in your room during eir visit. For that reason, I was a dutiful friend.

I didn't want to go because I anticipated it being awkward. I didn't think it was a good idea for me to give career advice to graduating seniors for a few reasons. Firstly, I don't like my job, so listening to me complain would be a bummer. Secondly, in a few months I'm going to be unemployed and searching for a place in the world, not any different than these seniors. What makes me qualified to help find a trajectory when it still eludes me? Thirdly, considering I only graduated two years ago, I kind of know these people. In these circumstances, it'd be preferable to either know them well or not know them at all. The slight familiarity adds to the awkwardness. These are people with whom I've shared mutual friends and never made an effort to get to know, people who have seen me waltz around the dining hall pants-less, and people who have spotted me at my intoxicated best at parties. And now I'm a teacher. Even I don't believe it.

I arrived to the event unapologetically fairly late and missed out on some of the mingling. Regrets, I have a few -- just not in this case. I pretty much spoke to the people I knew best, and those conversations didn't have much to do with my career, except occasionally confessing that I resigned. I contemplated networking with the other alumni in attendance to see if I could swoop up any job opportunities, but it wasn't that kind of night. Nearly half the alums who showed up were teachers. I felt bad for all of us, but at least figured that even if I gave a negative perspective of the profession, the other teachers could counter my opinion. I was continually introduced to the other teachers and kept trying to find ways to speak of our similar jobs without being overly critical. It made me uncomfortable; I felt like a phony.

Soon, the night progressed onto the speed dating round, meaning that the alumni would sit at tables and the seniors would rotate around to talk with us and get a perspective toward our fields. I contemplated making a joke of it and treating it like real speed dating by blatantly hitting on the seniors, but again, since I kind of/sort of know them, I didn't have the nerve. Fortunately, Michael Michael and Jessica joined me at a table by this point, so we collectively fielded the questions. Jessica, who owes a lot in student loans thanks to attending the college, commendably opted to come so that she could drink back her tuition in free alcohol. I tried to do the same, but I don't drink when I'm not feeling comfortable, so I barely sipped at my beer.

As people arrived at my table, I had very few constructive things to say about teaching. Ultimately, it wasn't nearly as awkward as I feared, but I don't think I was that helpful. My feedback was not nearly as constructive as it was pessimistic. My worst fear came true when one senior said, "Wait, you're an alum? I thought you've just been abroad." Meanwhile, my theory that the numerous other teachers would provide a balance to my own perspective didn't seem to hold water. Jenna sat at the other teacher table and said that the teachers were bitching about how miserable their jobs were. I'm not sure whether to feel validated or concerned that they've stuck with such a job for 10-15 years in spite of their feelings toward it.

The bigger winner of the evening was Katy. Katy showed up to the event not fully realizing it was a career thing; ey definitely wouldn't have come knowing that since ey's been between jobs for an extended period of time now. Though Katy was understandably embarrassed, a senior approached eir and gushed "I was hoping you would be here." This student had seen Katy's awesome art show and wanted to be an interior designer as well, so Katy was able to dispense legitimate advice about graduate school. Ey also had the distinction of being the only person who a student specifically wanted to see.

Once the job talk was done, we made a concentrated effort to mooch as much free booze as possible. We'll be paid for our time one way or another. Then it was time for the after party: a trip to the Uncomfortably Trashy Bar. Kurosh declared it eir favorite bar that ey's never been to. It does have a remarkable reputation. It was also Tyrus's first trip to a bar

Our fellow patrons were in rare form, particularly a woman who left nothing to the imagination. She displayed as much butt crack and cleavage as humanly possible while still wearing clothing. Occasionally her outfit would hike upwards and she would immediately tug it back down to a more revealing level. She was such a train wreck that I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She caught me staring on at least a couple of occasions and played it up by winking at me, mistaking my glares for sexual attraction rather than morbid curiosity. Since she was making out with a huge guy playing pool, but continued to send suggestive glares my way, my operating theory is that she was attempting to have her beau catch me staring and start a fight over her since she clearly needed attention.

Jenna met a better catch, a somewhat creepy leering old guy. He paid for eir to play Buck Hunter, so it wasn't all bad. Elsewhere, Jessica, in a tribute to eir absent golf arcade game-humping friend Madeleine, danced so raunchily against the video game machine that she was asked to stop. When you get called out for being low class at a bar as tacky as this one, it is nothing short of amazing.

Before we left for the Uncomfortably Trashy Bar, a college staff member asked Katy on a date. Unsure of how to decline politely, Katy instead invited em to the Uncomfortably Trashy Bar, which is highly amusing, because you should take a date to a morgue before you take them to this establishment. The person pursuing Katy's social awkwardness is striking. He thanks her profusely for bringing him to "such a nice place." And he's not sarcastic. This whole night is a total farce, but he's not picking up on the fact, so he beautifully adds to the hilarious awkwardness of the evening.

Last call comes and it's time to go home. Another reunion survived.