Swift as an Arrow

Hey, teenagers.

Yeah, you.

I know I haven't had the opportunity to address your kind since I was a high school teacher years ago. I also know that you didn't listen to me then, either, but if you give me just 30 seconds, I promise to leave you alone for a good long while.

When you are "helping" at a community volunteer event, and you agree to do the easiest job of all because you don't want to actually work like the rest of us, the expectation is that you at least get that minimal job done right.

You've been tasked with holding arrow signs to direct the rest of us volunteers to the starting location, which is not visible from the main road. When I walk by and you're too busy gossiping with your friend to acknowledge me, I'm going to assume the direction you have the arrow pointed is the way I should go. Ten minutes later when I've realized I've gone in the opposite direction, I am bound to be frustrated when I return.

I don't know whether you thought pointing it the other way would be funny. I don't know whether you dropped the sign and were too stoned to notice your mistake. I don't know whether you're really just that stupid. But one things for certain: you could have more effectively been replaced with a nail and a telephone pole. And that's true of teenagers in most circumstances.

In total, your incompetence cost more man hours than you offered in the first place; I alone lost twenty minutes trying to reorient myself. Therefore, I hope they forbid you from putting this "community service" on your college apps. If you can't point an arrow in the correct direction, you're not cut out for higher learning anyway.