To The Policeman Who Over-dramatically Dumps Out A Box Full Of Taken Fake IDs At College Orientation:
We all have jobs to do. I know. This rich, private university hires you every summer to speak at Orientation weekend about campus safety and responsibility, ultimately culminating when you have an assistant bring out a large white evidence tub. The eager freshly-inducted 18-year-olds in the audience are not sure about what’s going to happen next, but I am.
God. I am.
This summer job as a student manager for Orientation weekend seemed like a great way to make money and spend time with other college students instead of going home to Worcester, Mass. And the work isn’t supposed to be too hard. I give freshman their keys, I sit at a desk and answer phone calls from concerned mothers making sure their kids will have gluten-free meal plan options, and I’m assigned to clean-up duty in the conference auditorium after opening night inductions. Not bad at all.
But you – the policeman who over-dramatically dumps out a box full of taken fake IDs on stage in order to show that you’re the real deal and that you take no prisoners based on this collection of taken fake IDs that you have with you – will never know the hell that you’ve put me through.
You’re trying to show the pure volume of fake IDs that get taken at local businesses surrounding campus. How the underage kids thinking of trying to get a fake should be scared. Seeing this giant pile of them dumped out in an unmanageable pile on stage will surely instill the fear of legal repercussion for trying to get into The Dugout before they’re of age.
I get your intention, but dear God, can’t you stand to be a little less theatrical about the whole thing? Maybe just show a PowerPoint about being honest or listing alcohol safety statistics or SOMETHING THAT DOESN’T FORCE ME TO STAY IN THE CONFERENCE AUDITORIUM UNTIL 2:43AM PICKING FAKE IDS OUT OF EVERY CREVICE IN AND AROUND THE STAGE JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE TRYING TO BE IMPACTFUL.
What do you think this is? Motherfucking Steppenwolf? All you’re doing here is making me stay late picking up scattered fake IDs and miss the Orientation opening night staff party.
I just want to go back to answering angry gluten-related phone calls.