COLUMN: Summer – a good time to squirt people
The onset of daylight-saving time usually means a few things to folks my age.
1. All your farmer friends get habitually bitter that they have to work an extra hour each day.
2. However pasty white, most college women start exposing themselves for the summer to get a tan and to get guys.
3. If you haven’t got a summer job lined up yet, you’re pretty much screwed.
If any of y’all cannot relate to number three, your parents probably own a mansion of equal magnitude to that of MC Hammer. To avoid summer-long parental nagging, the rest of the roughly 12 million college kids battle fiercely every spring to get those meager amounts of beloved internships. Obviously, those kids would definitely prefer to sit at the beach and do nothing all summer but always fall prey to the overused slogan “It will look good on my résumé!”
The students graduating with a degree assume they have no reason to worry. In reality, if they wait, they will probably end up like me last year, having spent multiple thousands of dollars to get a piece of paper seemingly “qualifying” myself to still pull weeds and mow lawns for a living.
When I finally found a job, I worked for a few weeks on the maintenance crew at a local private school. While not nearly the most glamorous of jobs, it was kind of fun. Although, some of the tasks I hope never to have to do again – like repair ceiling tiles!
Whoever invented ceiling tiles must have been smoking the wacky backy. Those things are useless; they break way too easily. I’m sure some other form of tile could be much more worthwhile and offer similar acoustic properties.
I spent most of the first day at work picking up trash outside. Good thing it got up to 97 degrees that day with 65 percent humidity, or I might not have complained. Anyway, the trash poll came in, and 7-11 – followed closely by McDonalds – ranked first in the highest gross-litter spreadage.
The most alarming acquisition that hot August day was probably the open condom package next to the dumpster area. The first thought in my mind was “dum duh da dum, Trojan Man!” (like the TV commercial) Almost immediately thereafter, I disgustedly thought this meant I would soon discover what once resided in that package. When I found it, I remarked, “Man who in their right mind would have such a passionate moment of all places here, next to a dumpster?” I bet Dr. Phil would have a field day with that one.
I never thought I could be more disgusted with my summer job, but I soon found otherwise. I had the opportunity to unload several truckloads of waste at the landfill in town. Before my second day of work, I had never been to the top of a landfill mound and had no real expectation of the environment.
When I opened the door to the run-down truck, I gasped in alarm at the nasty sight. I will never again wear Birkenstocks to the dump. In fact, nothing but boots will ever cover my feet in this location again. EEEEEWWWWWWW!
To avoid being bored, I always tried to make the most of the chores to which I was assigned. When I watered the flowers in front of the school, I used a hose system with a waving sprinkler in the middle of it. This enabled me to water an area with the sprinkler and water specific plants with the end of the hose at the same time.
As any new physics graduate would realize, the pressure I put on the end of the hose directly affected the height or length of the sprinkler water columns. On one occasion, I was out of sight from the sprinkler, watering some bush. Many parents and children were getting out of vehicles and walking up the sidewalk, near where I was working, to drop their kids off for summer day camps.
Everyone watched the sprinkler to avoid getting wet. But when some people walked by, I stopped the water flow through the end of the hose. The sprinkler would then operate on full blast, giving the unsuspecting victims a brief, but memorable, moist moment. Squeals and shouts were emitted from around the corner, but I quietly chuckled to myself, hidden from view. I bet they never knew what hit them.
I plead the fifth on my preparation for summer ’03. As for y’all, unless you really think you’ve got at shot at “Big Brother 4,” get that summer job quickly!
Garrett Wheeler is an aspiring columnist for The Statesman. Comments about his work can be sent to features@statesman.usu.edu.